


Roads Untaken

by Spikedluv



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Future Fic, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-29 07:40:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spikedluv/pseuds/Spikedluv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kris Allen fell in love with Adam Lambert during Idol.  The two of them made plans to spend the rest of their lives together, but Kris decided that it was unfair of him to leave Katy before he’d even given his marriage a chance.  Kris breaks things off with Adam, breaking both their hearts.  When Kris’ marriage fails despite their best efforts, he thinks it’s too late for him and Adam.  But is it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roads Untaken

**Author's Note:**

> Kris-centric. Romance; AU; future!fic. Written for the second round of kradamreversebb.
> 
> Additional pairings: Kris/David Cook & Kris/OMC with David Cook/David Archuleta one-sided pining implied.
> 
> So much thanks to chosenfire28 for the beautiful artwork that inspired this storyand for the absolutely gorgeous banner and poster she made for me! Her art was eerily reminiscent of an idea I’d been wanting to write for a while. It was almost as if it was meant to be. *g* Check out the art master post here: http://chosenfire28.livejournal.com/277238.html
> 
> Written: February 14, 2013

  
  
  


Kris wasn’t taking much with him when he left. Mainly his clothes and his guitars. And Zorro. Kris was going to store most of his guitars and clothes at his parent’s house until he found a place of his own. They were also going to watch Zorro for him.

Kris sat on the bed in the guestroom and stared at the boxes he’d already filled with clothes when their room became Katy’s room and the guestroom became his. They’d had separate bedrooms for six months now, so he really should’ve seen this coming, but Kris thought they were still working on it. They’d even talked about marriage counseling.

Kris shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was when Katy sat him down and told him she wanted a divorce. And yet he had been. He’d said some things to Katy then that he regretted now. He’d given up everything – Adam, his music career – to try and make their marriage work. Katy had just looked at him sadly said, “That’s the problem. You shouldn’t regret the decisions you’ve made to put our marriage first.”

Kris had thought they were doing well, right up until the moment Katy had suggested separate bedrooms. Things weren’t perfect, but they were good. They didn’t argue. They’d even been trying to have a baby.

“I don’t understand,” Kris said. “We haven’t even had a fight.”

“Because you always back down,” Katy said. “There’s nothing about our marriage that’s worth fighting about.”

“That’s not true,” Kris said. “Can we at least talk about this? I mean, with someone?”

Kris had asked Katy once why she thought they weren’t working. “Because you’re not really here,” she’d answered immediately.

“I’m here!” Kris had exploded. “I’m right here! I’ve always been here!”

“Physically,” Katy had agreed, unfazed by his outburst. “But not emotionally. Not really. A part of you died when you chose our marriage over Adam. That Kris never came home.”

“That’s . . . that’s not true,” Kris said, but there wasn’t much conviction behind it.

“Instead,” Katy said, her voice catching in her throat. “Adam’s ghost came home with you. And I see him everywhere.”

~*~

Kris hugged Zorro goodbye and promised he’d send for him soon, then got in the car with his parents for the drive to airport in Little Rock to catch his flight to Nashville. Kris had given up his career, or the potential for one, in order to make his marriage work. He’d released two albums and an EP, but after he was released from RCA he and Katy decided that maybe it was for the best.

He still wrote songs – Kris didn’t think he could ever stop doing that – and sold them, so they had something besides Katy’s teaching salary and his residuals to live on. But he’d given up recording and touring, because they’d decided together that it would be too difficult on their marriage. He’d become the house husband he’d once joked about.

Andrew picked Kris up at the airport. Kris hadn’t seen him since his visit to Nashville a year and a half ago to produce the Christmas EP, but when Kris had called to tell Andrew that he was coming to Nashville, he’d unhesitatingly offered Kris a place to stay until he got everything sorted out. When Kris hesitated, Andrew had hit Kris the one place he knew Kris was vulnerable – the pocketbook.

Kris wasn’t cheap, exactly, more like frugal. Andrew had told Kris that it would be a waste to spend money on a motel when he had an extra guestroom. Kris was easily convinced.

Kris gave Andrew an awkward one-armed hug around his carry-on and the red neck pillow he’d found in storage when he moved a bunch of unpacked boxes to his parents’ house. “Thanks, man,” he said.

“Don’t mention it,” Andrew said. “I’m glad to have you.”

“I promise to get out of your hair as soon as I can.”

Katy had stayed with her sister for a week to give Kris a chance to pack up everything he wanted. He’d moved himself and his boxes to his parents’ house where he’d moped for another week until his mom had sat him down and said, “What are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know,” Kris said.

“What do you _want_?” his mom had asked, and then left him to think about it.

The answer was obvious. He wanted his music back. Writing songs had been like a life preserver for him – it kept his head above water – but what he really wanted to do was perform. He’d played some local venues to bring in extra money, but it hadn’t been enough. Kris really missed playing his music live for people.

If Kris wanted to revive his career, he couldn’t stay in Arkansas. But he didn’t think that the lights and bustle of LA was the place for him, either. Kris spoke with the two people he knew best in Nashville, Andrew DeRoberts and David Cook, and they both suggested that he move there. After talking about it with his parents, Kris decided to give it a try.

Daniel stopped by while Kris was packing for his flight. He didn’t want to take his guitar on the plane – he’d had problems with that in the past – so he’d already shipped it ahead to Andrew’s house. (And he’d made plans with his parents to ship the rest of his guitars once he’d found a place.) Daniel sat on the bed and watched Kris pack, re-folding the occasional t-shirt that Kris threw in the bag uncaring of wrinkles.

Finally Daniel said what he’d come there to say. “Are you going to call Adam?”

Kris only jerked a little bit in surprise at the question. “No,” he said as he examined a plaid shirt for holes and wear marks. Katy was right, he really needed to throw out some of these shirts. New clothes hadn’t seemed all that important when he wasn’t really doing anything besides going to Walmart and the smoothie place at the mall. Kris tossed the shirt onto the discard pile and looked at Daniel, who looked back at Kris expectantly, still waiting for more of an answer.

“It’s too late,” Kris said, not even surprised that Daniel knew how Kris had felt about Adam back then. “Adam’s seeing someone.” Besides, what was Kris going to say? The marriage I chose over you fell apart, any chance you might consider dropping your current boyfriend and taking me back?

Kris had never broken anyone’s heart before, not counting the times he and Katy had broken up in high school and college before they’d finally gotten married. The shattered expression on Adam’s face the day Kris had told him that he’d decided to stay with Katy and give their marriage the chance it deserved had haunted him for the past four years.

After thinking about it without Adam’s overwhelming presence there 24/7 to influence him, Kris had realized that he owed Katy that much. He’d married Katy, promised her for better or worse. The fact that he’d met Adam and fallen in love with him didn’t change that fact. It was almost as if Kris had been high the entire Idol tour, and for months afterward, and only now was he seeing clearly.

Kris couldn’t deny, though (at least, not to himself), that fear had played a part in his decision. Not fear of coming out, or for his own career once everyone knew he was with Adam, but fear that maybe Adam was also having second thoughts now that they had been released from the Idol bubble. That maybe what they’d had hadn’t been as real as it had felt.

~*~

The first few days in Nashville were low key. David Cook had put Kris in contact with the realtor he’d used when he’d moved to Nashville a couple years ago, so Kris looked at a few rentals she’d found for him based on the requirements he’d given her over the phone, and they refined his list of wants based on what she showed him. Andrew invited a few friends over and they talked over pizza, watched movies, and jammed. Kris’ own guitar had arrived before he had, but he was looking forward to finding a place so he could send for the rest of them.

At first Kris had only been going to ship a few of his guitars down, leaving the rest in Conway until he determined whether Nashville was really the place he wanted to be. He was hedging his bets, but he’d heard his dad’s voice telling him that he was setting himself up to fail by not going all in. (It was a sentiment that held true for his marriage, as well, Kris thought.)

After only a week of looking at houses, Kris was already sick of it. They all started to look the same after a while. Finally Kris had a short list of rentals that he thought would be perfect. He made Andrew look at them with him to give him a second opinion. Being a musician himself, Andrew knew what Kris needed. The house Kris finally chose, with Andrew’s blessing, was small by Nashville standards. At least, compared to other houses that had the entire basement given over to a recording studio.

There were three bedrooms, including a master suite with a walk-in closet that Kris decided would look bare with just his t-shirts hanging in there and an ensuite bathroom. The other two bedrooms shared a guest bath. Kris thought about turning one of the bedrooms into an office, and leaving the other as a guestroom. The front door opened into a foyer that led to what Kris had learned was called a great room. There was a living room, kitchen, and dining room all grouped together and open, which would be great for hosting football parties. Plus there was a deck at the back which led out to the already fenced-in back yard. It was the perfect size for a small family, but didn’t feel too large for one person.

The moment Kris walked out of the realtor’s office after signing the lease, he called his parents and told them to ship his guitars and the rest of his clothes. They’d both squealed at him excitedly over the phone and Kris promised to send them photos. His mom offered to come down and help him decorate and furnish, but Kris had to burst her bubble and tell her that the place came furnished. Kris wasn’t someone who cared too much about color palettes and such. As long as the furniture was comfortable (and it was, he’d tried it) Kris was good with it.

The house had been repainted and cleaned when the previous tenant left, so Kris moved in immediately. The entire process, from Andrew driving him over and Kris unpacking his duffel bag, took half an hour. When Kris came out of the master suite, Andrew stood in the kitchen, staring forlornly into the refrigerator.

“You need beer,” Andrew said sagely.

Andrew took Kris to the grocery store where Kris picked up some staples in addition to the beer. Kris knew he’d be hitting the grocery store several times until he had everything he needed, but at least he wouldn’t starve in the meantime. If nothing else, he could have peanut butter on Triscuit. (Plus, Andrew had shared the names of several of his favorite take-out places, just in case Kris came close to starving.)

On his way home Kris had Andrew drop him off at a Ford dealership. They’d provided him with the Fusion after he won Idol, which Kris had loved, but he was in the mood for something else. His entire life had been turned upside down and shaken up, and he wanted something that reflected the new start he’d embarked upon, even if he’d been forced into it. He didn’t need anything big (just large enough to carry a guitar or two), so he stayed away from the SUVs and trucks, and from the really small cars. In the end he narrowed it down to a Mustang convertible (just because he’d always wanted one) and the Edge, which would have more room for his equipment.

As much as Kris wanted the Mustang (especially after a test drive), the Edge was much more practical. And Kris was nothing if not practical. They had one sitting on the lot in Deep Impact Blue. If the color reminded Kris of Adam’s eyes, he was going to keep that to himself. Kris went through the credit check, signed the lease agreement, and drove the car off the lot.

Kris didn’t go straight home. Now that he had his own vehicle, he decided to take the long way and familiarize himself with his new home, at least for the time being. He parked downtown and walked, glad he’d brought his messenger bag when he spotted a coffee house that had a great view of one of the parks.

Because it was already mid-afternoon, the noontime crowd had thinned out and Kris was able to claim a table near one of the windows. He took out his notebook and stared out the window. He watched the people walking past and made up little scenarios about them – who they were, where they were headed in such a hurry. He watched the children playing in the park, the owners walking their dogs.

Kris wrote down words and phrases as they came to him in an attempt to stimulate his muse. He thought about the child he and Katy had been unable to conceive, the grass being greener, and roads untaken. Kris thought about Zorro and wondered if he should make the drive back home to get him now that he’d found a house.

~*~

Andrew threw Kris an impromptu house warming that night, and the next morning while Kris was still cleaning up, his parents pulled into the driveway.

“What are you guys doing here?” Kris called from the front porch.

“We brought your guitars,” his dad said as he got out of the car and stretched.

“And this little guy,” Kris’ mom added as she released Zorro from his carrier.

Zorro checked out his surroundings with interest. Kris stumbled down the steps in bare feet and called Zorro’s name. Zorro’s head came around, and his little legs started pumping before he’d even zeroed in on Kris. Kim let go of the leash so Zorro didn’t drag her along, and Kris went down on his knees and wrapped his arms around Zorro’s barrel body as Zorro excitedly jumped on him and licked his face.

Laughing and crying, Kris hid his face in Zorro’s fur, but that only meant Zorro moved his attentions to Kris’ ear and neck. Kris hadn’t realized how much he’d missed Zorro, missed having a piece of home here with him in Nashville.

When Zorro had calmed down a little bit, Kris stood up with the heavier than he looked dog in his arms and gave each of his parents a hug. His mom wiped the dog spit off his face before planting a kiss on his cheek. Kris smiled so wide he thought it might crack his face. It was good to see them.

They let Zorro explore the front yard, peeing on just about every bush and tree he came to, to work off some of the energy he’d built up on the drive down. Once Zorro was satisfied, Kris took them all inside to give them a tour of the house, Zorro trotting along at their heels, sniffing at nearly everything they passed. His dad was as impressed as Kris had been when he finally got a look at the studio.

“We’ll have to record something together while we’re here,” Neil said.

“We’ll have to figure out what all these buttons do first,” Kris replied.

Kris tied Zorro’s leash to the porch so he could supervise while they unloaded the SUV of guitars, boxes of clothes, and Zorro’s dog bed, toys, and other supplies, including the crate he’d ridden down in, which Kris used when taking him on visits. (Zorro was too large now for Kris to hold him in his lap, though Zorro didn’t understand that. He preferred Kris’ lap because he liked to be able to see where they were going.)

Once the boxes had been set in Kris’ bedroom, and the guitars in the studio, Kris’ mom turned her attention to Kris’ cupboards. “Kristopher, you have no food in this house!”

“First of all, I just moved in last night. Secondly, I have Triscuits,” Kris said. “And peanut butter. With jelly, I think that’s three food groups right there.”

“What’s the fourth?” Kim said as she swung the refrigerator door open. “Beer?”

“Um . . . .”

“We’re going grocery shopping,” Kim declared.

“We just got out of the car,” Neil protested.

“Well, we’re getting right back into it,” Kim said.

Neither Kris nor Neil argued with her.

A couple hours later Kris had ‘just the essentials’, which put his milk, bread, eggs, and cereal plan to shame. Juice and cheese, fresh vegetables and chicken breasts, steak and pasta, mustard, mayo and pickles. Kris added a container of ice cream to the cart, and his dad hid a box of brownie mix beneath the steak. Kris’ mom pretended not to see them.

Back home, Kris unpacked the recyclable grocery bags he’d bought at the store – his mom allowed it only grudgingly since he’d have to know where everything was – while Kim made sandwiches for their lunch. Before she did that, though, she washed all the flatware and plates. “Who knows how long they’ve sat there unused, just gathering dust?”

After lunch, Kris’ parents took a nap, tired after the six hour drive. They made plans to go out to dinner before they retreated, and Kris texted Andrew with an invitation to join them before he fell asleep on the couch (which turned out to be even more comfortable than he remembered), with Zorro tucked between him and the back of the couch.

~*~

Kris did a lot of writing on his back deck. The average high in Nashville in March was 61°, so most days Kris just had to throw on a hoodie and remember to put on a pair of socks to be warm. The backyard was fenced in so Zorro could explore while Kris wrote, though he always returned to Kris’ side and lay at his feet (and sometimes sprawled across his lap, which Kris sometimes preferred, especially on cooler days, because Zorro put off heat like a furnace).

Kris wrote a song about regret and hurting the one you love, and he didn’t know if he was speaking about Katy or Adam. The song wasn’t for public consumption, but it was cathartic and opened the flood gates of his creativity.

Kris started writing for his new album in earnest. He didn’t have any kind of theme for the album, but he wanted to have a good number of songs to choose from. He wrote with one of the musicians Andrew had introduced him too, he met with Cook for a few writing sessions, and Cale even came down for a visit. Once word got out in the music community that he was writing and hoping to put out another album, Kris started getting calls from other songwriters, such as Rob Thomas, who Kris joined at his home on Lake Marion in South Carolina for a couple of days of writing and relaxation.

Kris started recording some of the songs he’d written to get an idea of how they sounded. Andrew and Cook came over to help him with the equipment in the studio, and oftentimes after Kris had recorded an acoustic version, just him and his guitar, they’d come in and lay down some additional guitar tracks, and a couple times Cook even added some vocals. Recording the songs made Kris feel like he was actually doing something, making some progress, and it served the benefit of allowing him to hear what the songs sounded like, which gave him a better feel for them, and how they’d fit together for an album.

~*~

Kris had been in Nashville for six months, and most of the time he didn’t think about the way his marriage had fallen apart. It felt like it had when his post-Idol career was just taking off, when he’d rarely been home anyway, because if he wasn’t touring he was writing, and if he wasn’t taking meetings he was recording. His stay in Nashville felt like an extended trip away from home, rather than a legal separation. And the fact that he had Zorro with him made it feel like home.

Even knowing that Katy had spoken to an attorney, and that the eighteen month separation clock had started running the day Kris moved out of their home, hadn’t made it seem real. But the Friday morning he woke up and realized that it was (or would’ve been) their sixth year wedding anniversary hit him hard.

It was nearly noon, because he’d been up late in the studio. Kris choked down a bowl of cereal, sharing with Zorro, and took a shower before Andrew arrived to put in more time in the studio. If Andrew noticed that Kris was out of sorts, he didn’t mention it. They were re-recording a couple of songs that Kris had liked, but which he thought needed the arrangement changed up a little bit to be right.

Andrew stayed for dinner and they ordered Chinese. A couple of guys were coming over to watch the college football game later on, and Kris considered canceling since he probably wasn’t going to be the best of company. But then he’d have to tell them why. And spend the rest of the evening alone.

Kris had a beer with dinner, and then continued drinking. He wasn’t pounding them like a jock at a frat party, but he steadily worked through a six pack on his own, which was a lot for Kris because he was normally a light-weight. The fact that he liberally sampled the snacks everyone brought was probably the only reason he didn’t pass out.

Cook stayed after everyone else left. They popped another beer and watched the highlights on ESPN.

“Wanna talk about it?” Cook finally asked.

“Talk about what?” Kris said.

There was a moment of silence before Cook barked a laugh. “Yeah, that was convincing,” he said. “Seriously, no pressure, but the offer stands.”

“Thanks,” Kris said. He raised his eyes from the label he’d been carefully peeling off the bottle. “Same.”

Cook raised his eyebrows.

“If you need to talk,” Kris clarified.

A shadow passed over Cook’s face. “I’m good,” he said as he raised the bottle to his mouth. He gave a mirthless chuckle. “I think I just need to get laid.”

Kris wasn’t sure, exactly, how they got from there to his bed.

~*~

When Kris woke the next morning, there was no blissful haze of sleep, or even a painful hangover to cloud his memory – he remembered everything clearly. Cook still shared his bed, if the heat being generated from that side of the mattress, and the very male leg pressed against his own, was any indication. Kris kept his face buried in the pillow and let his mind whir.

“Should we talk about this?” Cook asked.

“Can we not?” Kris plaintively responded.

Cook chuckled. “Spoken like a true man.”

His voice was still rough from sleep (and other things which Kris tried very hard not to think about), and it made Kris shiver. Only because he was naked, Kris told himself, and still bore the evidence of their night together on his ass.

“Can I use your shower before I head out?”

Kris fell back on the politeness his mama had instilled in him. He sat up and forced himself to look at Cook. Who still lay sprawled on the other side of the bed. And who had hickies across his chest. Kris flushed hot.

“Of course you can use the shower,” Kris said, eyes back on Cook’s face. “I’m not kicking you out.”

Cook’s eyebrows went up.

“I’ll even make coffee.”

Cook smiled. “Deal.”

Kris averted his eyes as Cook threw back the covers and got out of the bed. Though he couldn’t help sneaking a glance at his backside as Cook stretched before disappearing into the ensuite.

Kris hurriedly pulled on the jeans he’d worn yesterday, scratching idly at the come that had dried on his belly. When he realized what he was doing, Kris forced his hand down. He stopped in the guest bath to take a piss and then washed his hands and splashed water on his face to wake him up the rest of the way. Though remembering that he’d slept with Cook had done a pretty good job of that all on its own.

Kris started the coffee and then let Zorro out the back door so he could take his morning piss as well. He leaned on the door jam, watching Zorro as he listened to the sound of the coffee maker brewing, trying not to think about Cook in the shower. Kris absently rubbed his face, which felt kind of tender. Zorro returned, insistent on being pet, and then the coffee gurgled its last. Kris got two mugs out of the cupboard and filled one. He inhaled the aroma, and then fixed it the way he liked.

Kris sipped at his coffee and pretended that he wasn’t listening to Cook moving about in the bedroom. When he heard the door open, Kris poured steaming coffee into the second mug. He looked up when Cook’s footsteps approached the kitchen and watched him walk into the room. His gaze fell on Cook’s neatly trimmed beard and suddenly it clicked.

“Oh my god,” Kris said, reaching for his chin. “You gave me beard burn!”

Cook hesitated at Kris’ words before continuing further into the kitchen. “Sorry,” he said as he reached for the coffee Kris had poured for him.

But Kris didn’t miss the glance Cook darted at his chin, or the twitch at the corner of his lips.

“You think it’s funny!” Kris said.

“Not at all,” Cook said, his face completely straight. His eyes, however, were totally laughing at him.

“I hate you,” Kris muttered into his coffee.

Cook gave up on holding back his chuckle. “I’ll make it up to you,” he said.

Kris felt a blush heat his bare chest.

“Breakfast,” Cook said, as if he’d read Kris’ mind. “I’ll make you breakfast.” He watched Kris’ reaction. “Unless that would be too awkward.”

“No!” Kris said. “No, I . . . I don’t know what I have in the fridge.”

“I’ll find something,” Cook said. “Go shower.” His gaze dropped to Kris’ belly.

“Good idea,” Kris said, setting his mug down with a clunk. He hurried to the bedroom, not caring if it looked like he was running away. He tamped down on the urge to scratch at his belly, even though the dried come itched like crazy now that Cook had drawn his attention back to it.

Kris showered and dressed in clean clothes that didn’t carry any reminder of what they’d done last night. When he returned to the kitchen Cook set a warmed mug of coffee on the table for him, and then turned his attention back to the omelet he was making.

“I found ham and cheese in the refrigerator,” Cook said. “Though it might be cheesy scrambled eggs by the time I’m done.”

Kris peered around Cook. “Looks good.”

The toast popped up. Kris put two more slices of bread down to toast and then buttered the toast. Cook split the omelet between two plates just as the second batch of toast popped up. Kris buttered those, as well, and got out the orange juice as Cook transferred the plates to the kitchen table.

They ate in silence for the first few minutes – Kris hadn’t realized how hungry he was. “This is good,” he said after he chewed and swallowed.

“I’m glad you like it,” Cook said. “I don’t cook much when it’s just for me.”

Kris understood that sentiment. He sighed at the realization that he did want to talk to someone, after all. “It was our anniversary yesterday,” he said. “Or, it would’ve been. I’m not sure it counts if you’re separated.”

Cook looked at him with a sympathetic expression. “I thought it might be something like that. The offer to talk still stands, if you ever need to unload.”

Kris nodded. “You, too.”

Cook chuckled. “Denial’s working for me right now.”

“Well,” Kris said, “when it stops working.”

They ate some more. Kris almost choked when Cook said, “That wasn’t your first time.”

“No,” Kris said. His brain very unhelpfully supplied an image of Adam’s beautiful face scrunched up with effort as he moved over Kris.

Cook nodded, as if he understood that Kris didn’t want to talk about it. “Are we okay?” he asked.

“Well, you made me breakfast,” Kris said.

“But is that enough to make up for the, uh, beard burn?”

Kris did not shift on the seat to find a more comfortable position. He raised his hand to the stubble on his own chin, which he’d left to better camouflage the reddened skin beneath it.

“When you put it that way, I’m not sure. Maybe I need dinner, too.”

Cook laughed. “We did that backwards, then.”

Kris threw his balled up paper napkin at Cook. He ducked, and it landed on the floor. Zorro chased it, barking excitedly. Kris forced himself to move so he could get the napkin away from Zorro before he tore it apart and ate it.

When he’d retrieved the napkin, Kris stood behind Cook, his back to him. “Sometimes I wonder what I could’ve done differently.

“You’ll drive yourself nuts that way.”

“Yeah.”

~*~*~*~

Kris went home for a week at Thanksgiving. He’d gone home for a couple of days over his birthday, but he hadn’t seen Katy then. This visit she called him to see if they could get together for a few minutes. Kris went out to the house they’d once shared because they both agreed that this meeting should take place in private.

“How are you doing?” Katy asked once they were seated in the living room with glasses of water in front of them. She held Zorro in her lap (though he looked bigger than she did), and he licked her face as if he’d missed her. Kris felt a stab of guilt for having taken Zorro away from her.

“Good,” Kris said automatically. “The song writing’s going well. We’ve recorded a bunch of songs and they sound good. I just need to decide on which ones I want for the album.”

“That’s great,” Katy said, “but what about you, how are you doing?”

Kris swallowed hard. “Good,” he said. “Mostly.”

Katy nodded. “Me, too.”

“Is that why you wanted to get together?” Kris asked.

“Yeah, kinda,” Katy said, looking a little bit embarrassed. “Part of me wondered if we’d look at each other and realize that we made a mistake. But I don’t think we did. Do you?”

Kris shook his head. “No.” As much as he hated the fact that their marriage had failed, he couldn’t deny that they were both happier now. It had been a long time since they’d talked like this, since they’d been able to. Maybe the upside of their failed marriage was that they got their friendship back.

As if she’d read his mind and agreed, Katy said, “So, tell me what’s got you feeling so guilty.”

Kris blushed.

“Must be good,” Katy teased.

“I’m not feeling guilty,” Kris dissembled.

“You forget that I can read you better than anyone. Nice try, though. Now spill.”

“I, um, I slept with someone,” Kris admitted.

Katy nodded. “Of course you’d feel guilty about that. Now tell me all about it.”

Kris blushed harder. “No!”

Katy laughed. “I didn’t mean the gory details! I meant . . . .” She gestured with her hand.

“It was our anniversary,” Kris said. “I got drunk. Some guys came over to watch the game and . . . one thing led to another.”

“You had an orgy?” Katy said.

“What? No! Where did you even . . . ? One guy stayed when everyone else left, and we . . . .”

“I’m glad,” Katy said.

When Kris looked at her, she added, “I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to move on.”

“I don’t want to,” Kris said.

“Change is hard,” Katy agreed. “But good.” She let Kris digest that, then said, “Was it Andrew?”

“No!” Kris said. “My god, where do you even . . . ?”

Katy laughed, and Kris was glad he’d have that to remember rather than the pale, pinched look on her face when she’d asked him for a divorce.

~*~

Now that Kris had some songs to shop around, he started thinking seriously about a label. He’d taken the large record label route once already and discovered that the changes in the music industry regarding the way people bought and listened to music favored the Biebers and Perrys of the world, but not artists like himself. He’d also learned the hard way that radio DJs announcing that they loved your album didn’t help if your single never made it to the air.

There were smaller, independent labels Kris could go with, or he could go the purely digital route and produce the album himself, just as he’d done with the Christmas EP. He had a studio in his basement, and he knew enough good people who would probably be willing to help with producing the songs he eventually settled on. He had some experience with production himself, now, as well. He wasn’t the newbie he’d been right after Idol.

Kris talked to Andrew and Cook about his options. Andrew offered to help in any way he could, and Cook suggested that Kris sign with his label for at least one album.

“You don’t have to do that,” Kris said.

“I know I don’t,” Cook replied. “I wouldn’t have made the offer if I wasn’t serious about it. I think you’d be a good fit.”

After splitting with RCA, Cook had produced his next album independently. It had worked so well for him that he’d decided to sign other artists that didn’t fit the larger label mold. One of those artists was someone Kris knew well – Allison Iraheta.

“People are going to start talking when they realize you’ve signed someone else from the ‘American Idol family’,” Kris said.

“I stopped caring a long time ago what people say,” Cook said.

“You’re not doing this because we . . . ?” Kris said, trailing off.

Cook’s eyebrows went up. “You weren’t that good.”

Kris barked out a surprised laugh. “That’s not what I meant!” he said. “I just didn’t want you to be making the offer out of some misplaced feelings of guilt, or something.”

“I’m not,” Cook said.

“Alright, good,” Kris said. Kris didn’t need to think about it. He’d visited Cook’s studio a few times since he’d moved to Nashville. He’d gotten to see how Cook’s label, AC Music Productions, treated the artists they’d signed. “Then yes.”

Cook smiled broadly and held out his hand to Kris. “Welcome to the family.”

Kris shook Cook’s hand. “Thanks. Besides,” he added as Cook drew him into a one-armed hug by the hand he held. “I was totally that good.”

Cook laughed.

~*~

They wasted no time getting started. Kris had Cook fax the contract directly to Lindsay after he’d looked it over. He and Cook had agreed on the terms, but she’d have their attorneys look it over before Kris signed it.

Kris had already been working on narrowing down the songs they’d record, trying to choose the best ones for the album. He’d played some of them for his dad, and for Cale, when he was home for the Christmas holidays to get their opinions, and even for Katy, who really did have some good ideas when it came to his songs. Kris thought it came from knowing him so well, and therefore having an understanding of the songs he’d most enjoy performing, or that would just resonate with him.

They narrowed it down to twenty songs and began the process of re-recording some of the songs and adding more instrument tracks. Andrew went into the studio with him, and Cale came to Nashville for a couple of weeks after Christmas. By the end of January Kris had all of the songs they’d chosen produced to his and Cook’s satisfaction. Only one song wasn’t complete, and that one only needed his duet partner to lay down her tracks.

Allison had been on vacation with her mom and neither Kris nor Cook had wanted her to cut it short. Cook had contacted her, though, and scheduled her for the studio as soon as she got back to LA and could fly out. He hadn’t told her that Kris would be there – they’d both wanted it to be a surprise. Allison screamed and tackled Kris when she saw him. If he hadn’t braced himself they would’ve both ended up on the floor.

Allison released him suddenly and pounded her fists against his chest before hugging him again. When she released him the second time there were tears in her eyes.

“You,” Allison said. “I can’t believe you’re here. And you.” She landed a punch on Cook’s arm before he could move out of reach. “You didn’t give me a heads up.”

“Sorry,” Cook said, not sounding the least bit sorry.

Allison sniffled. “So, am I really here to sing, or . . . ?”

“You think we’d bring you all the way here under false pretenses?” Kris said.

“Yes!”

“Well, we didn’t,” Cook said. “I just didn’t tell you who you’d be singing with.”

Allison looked blank for a second, and then she said, “Oh my god, Kris!”

Kris caught Allison’s hands before she could pound on him again. “You wanna see the song?”

“Yes, of course!”

Kris gave Allison the lyrics to read over. He played the guitar during her second read through so she could get a better feel for the rhythm.

“I like it,” Allison said when she was done. “Can we . . . ?”

They ran through it a couple times together. Allison made some suggestions for her lines to make them better fit her voice. After a couple more run throughs to make sure they were both happy with it, Allison went into the studio to lay her tracks. She sang the song three times, but they ended up using the first.

When they added Allison’s vocals to Kris’, the song sounded even better than Kris had hoped it would. Allison held her hand up for a high five, and then a fist bump, and then she grabbed Kris in a bear hug.

“I’ve missed you so much, you big jerk!” Allison said. “Well, little jerk,” she amended with a smirk after looking Kris up and down.

“Oh man,” Kris groaned. “Size jokes, really?”

“I wouldn’t think of mocking your size,” Allison said. “You’re perfectly sized. Pocket Idol.”

Cook laughed before Kris could retort. “Pocket Idol?” he repeated.

“You never heard that?” Allison said. She hooked her arm through Kris’. “Kris was our little Pocket Idol because he’s so tiny and cute.”

“I’m really not,” Kris said.

“You really are,” Cook and Allison both said at the same time, and then laughed at the expression on Kris’ face.

Kris stayed at the studio, helping with the production on the song. Allison took a seat in the back of the control room and texted on her phone.

“Hey, can I tweet that I was here?” Allison asked.

“Sure,” Kris said distractedly.

Kris didn’t know until much later, but Twitter apparently exploded when Allison tweeted _Catching up with @KrisAllen in Nashville!_

Kris had been maintaining a Twitter silence, for the most part, since he’d stopped performing. It hadn’t been intentional, or all at once, he’d just had very little to report and slowly withdrew from it. Even silly photos of Zorro listening to him play, or sleeping on Kris and practically dwarfing him, got old, especially when all his fans kept asking when he was going to produce new music. He’d slowly pulled away from Twitter until he rarely went on it anymore.

But now, fans that had been hibernating, just waiting patiently for Kris to poke his own head out, were coming out of the woodwork and filling Allison’s @replies with queries about Kris, most notably, _what was he doing in Nashville, oh my god, please let him be recording new music instead of writing for other artists, not that we don’t love those songs, too, and purchase them on iTunes to support Kris, but we’d much rather hear Kris sing his own songs. Or covers. Or the phonebook. Anything!_

Allison found Kris’ expression when she said, “Jesus, my phone won’t stop beeping with @replies now!” to be hilarious, so she sat on his lap and had Cook take their picture, which she tweeted with the caption, _Proof @KrisAllen lives!_

Cook had caught a corner of the control booth in the photo, which elicited another round of hysterical @replies, rampant with speculation as to what Kris might be doing in Nashville, in a recording studio. Kris ignored (as much as he could) Allison’s cackling as she read them. He was just glad she didn’t insist on reading all of them aloud, reserving that pleasure for the ones she found especially amusing or sweet or ridiculous.

Finally, Kris called it a day. He was happy with the song, but he’d probably give it a few more listens before he signed off on it. He copied the song to his phone, and then he and Cook took Allison out to dinner.

After a couple of beers (“Yes, Kristopher, I’m over 21 now. Time flies when you’re hiding away in Arkansas.” “I wasn’t _hiding_ , I was just living my life,” Kris denied, but Allison wasn’t listening anymore.), Allison slid down until Kris felt like he was being plastered against the wall, and then made Cook join them on their side of the booth. Both Kris and Cook squeezed in close to Allison for the photo the waitress was happy to snap for her. Allison eagerly tweeted it with the caption, _An Allison sandwich! Thanks @KrisAllen and @thedavidcook!_

They all stayed huddled together and watched the @replies stream in.

~*~

Allison had been planning on spending the night at a quaint B&B she liked to stay at when she visited Nashville, but Kris offered her the use of his guestroom.

“You bought a place?” Allison asked Kris after she accepted the offer with a squeal that Kris thought only dogs could hear and a squeeze that had his ribs creaking ominously.

“Renting,” Kris said, but he could tell that she had a lot more questions.

Thankfully, Allison waited until they were back at Kris’ house and she’d unpacked her stuff into Kris’ guestroom and guest bath. Kris was lying on his bed in the t-shirt and lounge pants he wore to bed, listening to their duet, when Allison, face scrubbed clean of make-up and hair pulled back into a lop-sided ponytail, appeared in the doorway.

Allison took note of the earphones hanging out of Kris’ ears, and Zorro stretched out across the end of the bed where he’d taken his place after they’d returned from their walk. She settled herself on the bed next to Kris without disturbing either of them. It was a familiar position from their time in the Idol mansion and on tour, but back then Adam had been there, as well. Sometimes Allison would curl up on either side of them, and other times she would wiggle until she’d squirmed her way between them.

Kris lifted his arm and Allison snaked her way beneath it. She waited patiently, slipping her toes under Zorro’s belly to keep warm, until the song ended, not speaking until Kris pulled out the earphones.

“Want to tell me about it?”

Kris sighed. He’d been living in a little bubble. Not exactly hiding, as Allison had accused, but enjoying not having to explain himself to anyone, not having to answer all their questions. It had been comfortable, but, ultimately, unrealistic.

“It’s a long story,” Kris finally said.

“So give me the short version,” Allison said gently.

“Katy and I are getting divorced,” Kris said.

“I’m sorry,” Allison told him. “I know it was important to you to make your marriage work.”

“Yeah,” Kris said.

He thought about the way Allison had worded her comment. It had been important to him to not turn his back on someone he cared about merely because he’d fallen in love with someone else. He’d made promises to Katy, and the thought of breaking those vows so soon after he’d made them, before they’d even had a chance to _be_ married, made him doubt himself. He’d been so concerned about not letting his marriage fall apart that he’d neglected to build on the promises they’d made to each other.

“Slumber party?” Kris said.

Allison giggled and immediately started pulling down the blankets so she could get beneath them. Kris turned out the light and got under the covers on his side.

“I feel like we’re on tour again,” Allison said.

With darkness enveloping them, a hint of moonlight through the blinds the only illumination, it did feel like they were in a place separate from the rest of the world.

“Am I the first person to sleep on this side of the bed?” Allison asked jokingly.

“No,” Kris said before he could censor himself.

Allison immediately rolled to her side so she could look at Kris. “Really? Do tell!”

Kris felt his skin prickle as the flush rose. “There’s nothing to tell,” he prevaricated.

“You really suck at lying, Kristopher,” Allison said, wonder in her voice at really how bad he was at it. “Now spill.”

“There’s nothing to spill,” Kris said, but Allison waited in a silence that grew too heavy for Kris to ignore. “It was just a one night stand. We were both a little drunk, and it was mine and Katy’s sixth year anniversary.”

Allison reached for Kris’ hand under the sheet.

“I think we both just needed . . . someone.”

Allison slid over until she’d snugged herself up under Kris’ arm. She curled one arm over his chest and hugged him. Allison didn’t say anything, which Kris appreciated almost as much as he appreciated the cuddling. He tried to remember the last time he and Katy had snuggled. Couldn’t.

“This feels nice. Thank you.”

“That’s what friends are for,” Allison said.

Kris huffed. “Hugs and grief sex, apparently.” Kris froze the moment the words had left his mouth. “How much did I have to drink tonight?”

“Maybe you just need someone to talk to, instead of keeping it all bottled up,” Allison said. “Thanks, though, for narrowing the field down for me.”

“You’re welcome,” Kris said dryly. “Any chance you’ll let this drop?”

Allison snorted in reply.

Kris dropped a kiss to the top of Allison’s head, and then there was nothing.

~*~

When Kris woke up, neither Allison nor Zorro were on the bed with him. Kris threw the blankets back without even checking the clock, afraid Zorro had tired of waiting for him and pissed in the middle of the kitchen. (It wouldn’t be the first time.) Or worse, taken a dump. The smell of freshly brewed coffee drew Kris to the kitchen (where the floor remained sparkling clean from the cleaning lady’s visit a couple days ago). He saw Allison sitting on the back deck, so he stepped outside. The wood of the deck was still cool against his skin, and he reflexively curled his toes under.

Allison sat with a cup of coffee in her hand and Zorro’s leash across her lap. She looked up when she heard Kris. “Morning.” She grinned as Kris blinked blearily at her, and then offered him her coffee cup.

Kris took it from her gratefully, remembering only after taking a sip why he never stole Allison’s coffee. He grimaced at the amount of sugar she’d used. “Was the spoon standing up by itself by the time you were done?” he asked as he handed the mug back.

“No,” Allison said. “And besides, I think that saying’s for coffee that’s really strong, not coffee that has just the right amount of sugar,” she pointed out.

Kris frowned, unable to think of a comeback. “My point still stands.”

“If you say so.”

Kris nodded at the leash.

Allison picked it up and stroked her thumb over the clasp. “We went for a walk while the coffee brewed.”

“How long have you been up?” Kris said as his eyes searched out Zorro in the back yard. He was sniffing a bush when Kris’ gaze fell on him. Zorro raised his leg and marked it as best he could, given that the bush was four times his size.

“Coffee,” Kris mumbled, and disappeared back in the house to pour his own mug. When it was fixed to his satisfaction, Kris returned to the deck. He sat on the steps and got Zorro’s attention. As soon as he saw Kris, Zorro came running over. He climbed the steps to sniff at Kris’ bare toes, and then shoved himself under Kris’ hand for some good morning petting. When his ears had been sufficiently rubbed, Zorro rolled to his back beside Kris and let Kris rub his belly.

“Doggie heaven,” Allison laughed.

Zorro, eyes closed, tongue lolling out of his mouth, ignored her.

Kris smiled as he sipped his coffee, and thought about how nice it was to have someone else in the house with him. Kris changed his mind about that over breakfast.

Allison claimed first shower by virtue of having been up longer and letting Kris sleep in, and because she’d been considerate enough to put off taking her shower in case the pipes rattled and woke Kris up. Kris mixed up blueberry pancakes while Allison showered, and then turned the grill on to heat. He got out plates, cups, and flatware, syrup and butter, and set them all on the table.

While Kris showered, Allison made the pancakes. She’d just divided the first batch between two plates when Kris reappeared. She poured more batter onto the grill and joined Kris, who was already seated at the table, buttering his stack.

“Have you talked to Adam?” Allison asked after they’d put quite a dent in their pancakes.

Luckily, Kris had his mouth full, which gave him a few seconds to think how he was going to approach this question. He decided to start simple. Kris shook his head as he swallowed, and said, “No.”

“Are you going to?”

“No,” Kris said. At Allison’s very pointed look, he added, “It’s too late for that.”

Kris had burned that bridge when he’d broken Adam’s heart by choosing his marriage over them.

“Are you sure?” Allison asked, her voice small.

“Yeah,” Kris said sadly.

Kris would never forget the look on Adam’s face – he’d been devastated by Kris’ decision. There was no going back after that. Which is why Kris had been even more determined to make his marriage to Katy work – he’d given up everything that mattered to him for it. It made his failure burn all the more.

Allison stayed with Kris for a week, writing and relaxing, hanging out and catching up. She was happy to stay at the house with Zorro when Kris went into the studio to finalize the tracks for the album – which didn’t have a name yet, though Kris kept thinking of it as ‘Life After You’. Still, he didn’t want his album to reflect past failures, but the optimism of new beginnings.

~*~*~*~

The main thing Allison’s visit did (aside from giving him back a sense of normality), was remind Kris that there was a while world out there that he’d been ignoring. A world he would no longer be able to ignore if he wanted his album to get any promotion. At the very least there would be interviews. Where he’d have to tell people about his separation from Katy. And he needed to start reconnecting with his fans.

The second evening of Allison’s stay they sat on the deck, sipping beers, eating nachos, and watching the sun set. Before it got too dark, Kris snapped a photo of Allison with Zorro in her lap trying to beg a nacho out of her, and uploaded it to Instagram. (It had been so long since Kris had used the service that it took him a few tries to get his password right.) Kris captioned the photo, _Look who came to visit! I think @zorropup likes @allisoniraheta better than me. *sad face*_

The next evening Kris tweeted, _sand between my toes, salt water on my skin_

Each night, Kris made another tweet:

_Yep, writing songs in Nashville!_

_Don’t tell me no when your eyes are saying yes_

Kris took a photo of Andrew wearing headphones and working at the control panel, tweeting it with the caption, _hard at work_

Kris and Allison went out again with Cook. This time the two Andrews joined them. Over dinner, Allison asked if any of them had seen Archie since his return from his two year mission. None of them had. Kris noticed the slight tightening of Cook’s smile at the question, but probably only because he’d been looking for it. Allison didn’t seem to notice (though Cook’s brother Andrew spared him a glance before turning his attention back to Allison), and she went on to tell them how she’d run into Archie in LA when he’d apparently been meeting with his label.

Kris spoke with Cook before making his next tweet. Cook got a guilty look on his face. “You know I’ve been tweeting about writing with you for months now,” he said.

Kris shook his head. “No. I haven’t really been paying attention to Twitter. I’ve only just now started getting back into it thanks to Allison.”

“Tweet it,” Cook said. “Time to start generating some interest in this puppy.”

That night Kris tweeted, _Working with the fabulous @thedavidcook on a new album. Can’t wait for you guys to hear it._

The next evening Kris tweeted, _There might be a duet on the album._

Kris had forgotten how much time he could lose just to reading his @replies. He and Allison took turns reading the most outrageous ones out loud to each other.

Before Allison left Nashville, they went over to Cook’s for a bar-b-que, and Zorro and Dublin had a play date.

“I’m going to see Archie again in a couple of weeks,” Allison announced. “We’re going to Disneyland. What?” she said at the looks she received. “You’re all just jealous. Anyway, I can’t wait to tell him about my visit with you guys.”

Her words fell into a void that Kris sought a way out of.

“Tell him we said hi,” Cook called over his shoulder as he flipped their burgers. “And give him a tip. Tell him to hold on tight.”

Everyone laughed, and the tension was broken. Allison smiled as if nothing was amiss. Kris had to squash down the urge to give Cook a hug.

On the drive back to Kris’ place, Allison said, “Kristopher Allen! You slept with David Cook?”

Kris nearly swerved into the other lane. “What?”

“I saw the way you looked at him back there!”

“What are you talking about? There were no looks!”

“Like you were worried about him . . . .”

“Well, yeah, you were talking about Archie, and I’m pretty sure that’s his Achilles heel.”

“. . . and you wanted to give him a blow job to make him feel better.”

“Oh my god!” Kris said. He actually took his eyes off the road to look askance at Allison. “I did not!” (He tried to ignore the flush currently heating his skin.)

Allison merely shrugged, unperturbed. “A manly hug, then, but don’t think I didn’t notice that you didn’t deny sleeping with him.”

Kris thought about denying it then, but realized that that ship had already sailed. “You suck.”

Allison just smiled smugly at him.

~*~

It seemed strange once Allison left, almost too quiet now that Kris was alone again. He threw himself into finalizing the tracks for the new album, and spent more time on Twitter than he had in over a year. It was disconcerting to see how many of his fans had hung on while he’d apparently fallen off the face of the Earth.

The first night without Allison in the house, Kris curled up on the couch with Zorro on his lap and threw a Twitter party, offering to answer questions about the album. He didn’t think he’d get that many responses. He was wrong. His fans wanted to know everything – when the album was coming out, who he’d written with, how many tracks, would there be bonus tracks, was he going to tour, had he chosen a first single . . . ?

Kris answered as many questions about the album as he could, ignoring every question about Katy. It reminded him, though, that he’d have to call her so they could talk about what he was going to say in interviews when he was invariably asked about her.

Kris did a photoshoot for the CD cover and insert. Kris had finally chosen _Spring Forward_ for the name of the album. He’d wanted something that suggested new beginnings without implying that he was blaming Katy for the failure of their marriage, or that he was happy it had ended, like, ‘Life After You’ might have done. Plus, he liked the parallel with his album coming out in the spring.

Kris, with Cook’s input, got to choose the cover photo. In it, Kris sat on the floor, his back against a grandfather clock. He wore a white t-shirt (that clung to his chest and showed off his biceps nicely, according to the woman who dressed him) and a well-worn pair of jeans that were an inch too long and frayed at the hem. Neither of which belonged to Kris. He’d been convinced to go barefoot, as well, even though he kind of hated his feet. (He’d relented only so long as the camera didn’t focus on them.)

In his hands, Kris held an old-fashioned alarm clock that had the little bell things on top. The plan was to photoshop in additional clocks to bring home the message of the album title, but Kris liked the more sparse version better. The empty space in the upper right hand corner of the cover was filled with the album name, the only other clock in the image creating the ‘O’ in Forward.

Kris had two interviews scheduled within moments of announcing that he was recording a new album. Michael Slezak got in there first when he tweeted, _Dibs on first interview_. Jim Cantiello was a few seconds late, tweeting, _A pox upon you, @MichaelSlezakTV!_ followed by, _Hey, @KrisAllen, time for a Catan rematch?_

Lindsay had set up interviews with both of them, scheduling them for the end of February when they’d be further along on the album and possibly have a single picked out. Kris waited until a couple days before the first interview to call Katy. Procrastination, thy name is Kris Allen.

Katy was not surprised by the call. “I’ve been wondering when you were going to realize that we’d have to go public.”

“I realized,” Kris defended. “I just figured, if I didn’t think about it . . . .”

“Mmm hmm,” Katy said. “I’m glad, actually.”

Kris could tell by the tone of her voice that she had more to say, so he waited.

“It’ll be nice not to have to pretend anymore, you know? I’ve kinda started seeing someone. We’ve been careful, but . . . .”

Kris’ throat closed up and he couldn’t speak. It took him a few moments to realize that Katy was saying his name. “I’m glad,” Kris choked out. “I really am,” he added, knowing that he’d sounded anything but. “I just . . . I wish . . . .”

“I know,” Katy said sadly.

“I want you to be happy,” Kris said. That much he could say with conviction.

“I want the same thing for you. And now maybe . . . .” Katy trailed off. “Have you spoken to Adam?”

Kris barked out a humorless laugh. “Allison asked me the same thing,” he explained at Katy’s inquiry. “That’s not going to happen,” Kris said when Katy waited patiently for him to continue. “You didn’t see his face when I told him . . . .”

“I’m sorry,” Katy said.

“It’s not your fault,” Kris said quickly.

“A little bit, maybe,” Katy said. “I knew how you felt about him, but I didn’t care.”

“I loved _you_ , too. You deserved better than . . . that.”

“I deserved better than you staying with me out of duty,” Katy said sharply.

The words struck Kris in the heart like a knife.

Katy took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I guess I’m still working through some issues.”

Kris made a noncommital sound just to let her know he was listening.

“What I meant was, we both deserve better than that.”

“Which is why you’re the smart one,” Kris said, making Katy laugh.

They talked some more before disconnecting. Katy asked him about his album, and how Zorro was doing. She told him to say hi to both Michael Slezak and Jim Cantiello when he met with them. Kris couldn’t bring himself to ask Katy who she was seeing.

Before she said goodbye, Katy said, “I’ve been thinking about this moment, you know, the Big Reveal, and I have an idea for a drinking game.”

Kris smiled. Katy could get drunk on alcohol fumes. The thought of her playing a drinking game was hilarious. “What is it?”

“After you announce our separation, one drink for each of your fans who unfollows me on Twitter, and two for each ‘fan’ who tells me that you’re a jerk for leaving someone as wonderful as me.”

Kris didn’t laugh like he was supposed to. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to be fine,” Katy said. “And so are you.”

Kris sat on the couch after his conversation with Katy, petting Zorro, who sensed his distress and whined until Kris picked him up. He was glad for Katy, that she was picking up the pieces and moving on with her life. And once he announced to the world that they were separated, she’d be able to do so without having to hide it. Not that she’d had to hide it before, Conway, Arkansas not being a paparazzi hotbed, but Kris knew that she’d done it in deference to him. She knew Kris well enough to know that he hadn’t been ready yet to go public with this bit of personal information.

Most of Kris’ thoughts, though, were about Adam. He generally tried not to let himself think about what might have been, but tonight Kris couldn’t help it. The fear that their feelings for each other would change once they were outside the Idol bubble had been a part of his decision to stay with Katy, Kris could admit that to himself now like he couldn’t back then. Still, the thought that he and Adam could’ve been great together haunted him. 

Kris called Cook. “Wanna come over and watch a football game tonight?” he asked when Cook answered.

Cook hesitated. “You do realize that football season is over, right?”

“I do,” Kris said, and waited for Cook’s answer.

“What brought this on?” Cook asked later, stretched out naked across Kris’ bed.

“I talked to Katy tonight about the upcoming interviews,” Kris said. “Telling everyone about our separation.”

“Ahh,” Cook said. “So, what am I now, your sexual crutch?”

“No!” Kris said. Just as it had been with Allison, it was easier to talk with Cook about things he’d never told anyone else in the dark. “You’re the only person I’ve slept with in the past year and a half,” Kris admitted.

“Wow,” Cook said. “That’s . . . .”

“Pathetic?”

“No. Well, maybe, yes,” Cook said.

Kris reached over and slapped him lightly, and with muscles that still weren’t working properly, which only made Cook laugh.

“I’m working my way up to dating people I’ve never slept with,” Kris said lightly, trying to make a joke of it.

He wasn’t really. Kris had no interest in dating, much less the time for it. It was possible Kris might feel differently once he was no longer hiding behind his marriage, but he didn’t think so.

“We probably shouldn’t do this anymore, then,” Cook said. “As fun as it’s been.”

~*~

The interview with Slezak went very well. He came down to Nashville and they met at one of Kris’ favorite restaurants. Cook and Lindsay joined them for the meal portion of the interview. Slezak didn’t hesitate to grab Kris in a hug before holding him at arms’ length to study him.

“Jesus, look at you,” Slezak said. “I’m seriously torn between grabbing your ass and telling you to eat something!”

Kris laughed. It was just the kind of irreverent icebreaker he needed. They all chatted over lunch, which put Kris even more at ease. (The single beer he drank with his burger probably didn’t hurt, either.) When Slezak asked about Katy, Kris was able to say, “Katy’s doing great. She’s still in Arkansas. She told me to say hi when I saw you.”

“Tell her hi back,” Slezak said. “And Zorro! Will I be able to see him this trip or is he back in Arkansas?”

“Zorro’s keeping me company,” Kris said. “We’ll set up a visit before you leave.”

“Awesome!”

The meal went on without any other pitfalls, until eventually the food was gone, plates cleared away, and it was time for the formal interview. Well, as formal as interviews with Michael Slezak ever got. Cook and Lindsay moved their chairs to the end of the table so they were out of the frame of Slezak’s camera.

“Katy and I have separated,” Kris blurted out before Slezak could ask his first question. “I don’t really know how to work that into a conversation,” he added apologetically. “Or an interview.”

“I’m sorry,” Slezak said. He sounded sincere, but Kris could see the gleam in his eyes. “Is that for public consumption?” Slezak glanced at Lindsay – they hadn’t told him that any questions were off limits.

“Yes,” Kris answered. “It’s time. I’d appreciate if you didn’t lead with it, though,” he added wryly.

“Of course not,” Slezak said. “We’ll definitely concentrate on the music. Let the tabloids focus on that. Do I have an exclusive on it?”

“Until I talk to Cantiello,” Kris said.

Slezak nodded. “I can work with that. If I get enough goodies, I can divide the interview up into two parts. I’ll keep that tidbit for the second part, get some buzz going about the new music before we drop that bombshell.”

“Sounds good,” Lindsay said.

Kris glanced at Lindsay and nodded his agreement.

~*~

Michael Slezak: It’s been a while since your last album. Three years!  
Kris Allen: Yeah.

MS: What made you decide to create another album now?  
KA: As much as I enjoy writing music, my greatest passion is performing live. I’ve missed it. There’s nothing I want to do more.

MS: What kind of music can we expect to hear on this album?  
KA: If you’re familiar with my other albums, you’ll know that I don’t really stick to one genre. I write and sing what feels good. I think I’ve done the same thing here.

MS: Do you have a name for the album yet?  
KA: Yeah, we’re calling it _Spring Forward_.

MS: Where did that come from?  
KA: Well, it’s spring. (Laughs) A time of new beginnings, which this is for me, as well, and I just wanna grab life by the horns, so to speak, so _Spring Forward_.

MS: I heard through the grapevine that you’ve done a photoshoot for the cover.  
KA: Yeah. (Self-deprecating laugh) I hate photoshoots, man.

MS: When can we see it?  
KA: As soon as my record label signs off on the final version.

MS: Let the record show that Kris just gave David Cook the evil eye.

[Hear Cook’s laughter off-camera]

MS: What made you decide to make this album in Nashville instead of, say, LA?  
KA: I knew I couldn’t make it in Arkansas, but I think we all know by now that I’m not an LA kind of guy. Nashville just seemed like a better fit. It didn’t hurt that I already knew some people here, and I’d visited Nashville before to write. There’s some amazing talent here.

MS: Can you tell us how you came to be working with this guy? Mr. David Cook.  
KA: We’d been hanging out, did some writing together, played around in the studio in my basement . . . 

MS: You have a studio in your basement?  
KA: I have an awesome studio in my basement. I’d been thinking about how I was going to get this album produced, everything from approaching another large label, which would really reduce the amount of creative control I had, to producing it myself . . .

MS: Like you did the Christmas EP.  
KA: Exactly. And then David Cook offered me a contract with his independent label, AC Music Productions. He knows exactly what an artist goes through in this business because he’s been there, and he’s got some amazingly talented people working for him, plus I don’t give up creative control like I would with a larger label, so I was happy to sign with him.

MS: I understand that there might be a duet on this album?  
KA: Yeah. Alli came in and . . . .

MS: That’s Allison Iraheta for the heathens among you.  
KA: (laughs) Yeah, Alli, Allison, she came in and laid some tracks, and it sounds great.

MS: Krallison. First time you’ve seen Allison in how long?  
KA: Oh, gosh, years. We did a lot of catching up while she was here.

MS: There’s someone important that we haven’t talked about yet. Zorro. He’s here in Nashville with you?  
KA: Yes, I brought my dog with me.

MS: How’s he enjoying Nashville?  
KA: He’s good. He loves it. Of course, he’s pretty easy. As long as he’s got grass to roll in and a bush to pee on he’s happy.

MS: And Katy. How’s she doing? Tell her I said hi back, by the way.  
KA: (laughs) I will. Katy is doing great. She’s still teaching, and her students love her.

MS: How does she feel about this new album?  
KA: Katy’s happy for me. She’s always been my biggest fan. Except for my mom and dad. (Mouths, ‘Sorry mom and dad’ at the camera)

MS: Will you be staying in Nashville?  
KA: You know, I think I might. For a while, anyway. I enjoy it here.

MS: Will Katy be joining you?  
KA: No. Katy has her own life in Arkansas, and . . . Katy and I have separated. It was a tough decision, but for the best for both of us.

MS: I’m sorry to hear that. How long have you been separated?  
KA: About a year now.

MS: And you still remain friends?  
KA: Yeah. Katy’s been my best friend for as long as I can remember. I don’t think I’d know what to do without her in my life in some capacity.

MS: Was the decision to separate mutual?  
KA: As much as anything like this can be. I think we both realized that, as much as we cared about each other, our marriage wasn’t working. We both needed other things. I hope we can find them now.

MS: Back to your album. It looks like your label finally got their act together (coughs) and approved the cover. Some kind person sent me a copy of it. Is this the cover you had in mind?  
KA: (leans forward to look at MS’s phone) Yeah, that’s it. I’ll have to tweet it out now that it’s official.

MS: I noticed that you’re back on Twitter now.  
KA: I am. For a while there I kind of felt like I didn’t have anything exciting to announce. But I’m excited now to be making this album, so . . . .

MS: Any idea what the time table is for the release?  
KA: We’re hoping to release the first single sometime in March.

MS: First day of Spring?  
KA: (makes face) Maybe. And then we’re hoping April or May for the album release. The great thing, well, one of the great things, of which there are many (glances at David Cook), of working with a smaller, independent label, is that there are fewer hoops to jump through when it comes to stuff like this.

MS: Less fingers in the cookie jar?  
KA:(laughs) Yeah, something like that.

MS: Have you chosen a single yet?  
KA: We’ve narrowed it down.

[Hear David Cook’s snort off camera]

MS: Sounds like there’s a story there.  
KA: Well, I’ve narrowed it down to five.

MS: Five?  
KA: I think they’d all make great singles, and I really like them all, obviously, or they wouldn’t have made the album.

MS: I’ll help you choose.  
KA: Awesome! Maybe that’s exactly what I need, an unbiased outside opinion, you know, someone who hasn’t been working on them from day one. They’re all like my babies.

MS: Do I get to listen to the entire album before choosing?  
KA: Sure! We’ll burn you a copy. Just know that after you listen to it, it’ll self-destruct. (Laughs)

MS: Mission Impossible! Maybe that should’ve been the name of your album. It’s been a long time coming.  
KA: Maybe.

~*~

Kris tweeted a copy of the album cover after the Slezak interview. He only read the first couple of @replies because he felt himself blushing at his fans’ very vocal appreciation of the cover photo. Slezak and Cook took it upon themselves to follow Kris’ @replies, sharing them with him even though he begged them not to. Or because of it.

Over the next week, Kris had several more interviews scheduled with Jim Cantiello, MJ and Lyndsey Parker. Lindsay took care to schedule his first round of interviews with people who actually liked Kris and were predisposed to give his music the benefit of the doubt rather than write him off as a has been. And they were also people who would keep the focus of the interviews on his music rather than is pending divorce.

Lyndsey Parker said, “I heard that you and Katy are getting divorced. Is that true?”

“Yeah,” Kris said. “It is.”

“I’m sorry,” Lyndsey said (and she sounded sincerely sorry) before turning the topic right back to his music. “Did the emotion from that go into the new album?”

“Yes and no,” Kris said. “Right after we made the decision to separate, I’m not gonna lie, the songs I wrote were full of sadness and regret, but as sorry as we both were to have our marriage end, we knew it was for the best, and once I could put away the sorrow and look forward to the future, whatever it holds, my writing took on a more positive vibe. And that’s what I wanted for this album, not to mourn the end of our marriage, but to celebrate the beginning of something new and wonderful. For both of us.”

Jim Cantiello broke the ice by telling Kris that Kris was the only guy on his list. “Now that you’re single, I think I can tell you this.”

“What list?” Kris asked.

“You know, my _list_.” When Kris still didn’t understand, Jim leaned closer and spoke in a loud whisper. “The list of five celebrity crushes you could have sex with without it affecting your relationship.”

Kris spit out the iced tea he’d just taken a sip of.

“That’s attractive,” Jim noted. “Yes, ladies and gentleman, Kris Allen, the one guy I’d go gay for. Actually,” he added thoughtfully as Kris wiped tea off his chin and the table. “That explains a lot.”

MJ asked, “Whose idea was it?”

Kris took a deep breath before answering. The last thing he wanted was some of his more die hard fans jumping on Katy. “I think we both knew it wasn’t working, but I was being stubborn and digging my heels in. I wish I could say it was because I was deeply in love, but really, I didn’t want to admit that I, that _we’d_ failed. Katy had to be the voice of reason. She realized that we couldn’t go on the way we were.”

“So what you’re saying is that Katy was the smart one in your relationship,” MJ said lightly.

Kris laughed. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

~*~*~*~

With those interviews under his belt, Kris felt more confident taking on others. He settled on a single, a song called _Coloring Outside The Lines_ , and then got ready for some radio appearances to promote the album. Cale came to Nashville and stayed with Kris while they practiced, arranging and rearranging the songs for an acoustic performance until they were both satisfied.

Kris tweeted the title of the single when they finally decided on it. He figured no one would be surprised that he waffled on it right up to the last minute. The cover for it was simple – Kris (wearing the same t-shirt and jeans as on the album cover) sitting in a chair with his bare feet braced on the edge of a low table, his head bent over the guitar in his lap. Kris’ fans went crazy when he tweeted a copy of it, and again when he shared some of the lyrics.

Lindsay got Kris’ official website (which he’d let languish over the last few years, aside from the occasional mention when someone recorded one of his songs) cleaned up and updated with the album and single information – covers and release dates – as well as the information about his new recording company. As radio promotions were scheduled, she added them to the Events page, and posted the interviews Kris had give on the News page, as well as the newly created Interviews & Appearances page.

When the first part of Kris’ interview with Slezak was posted (along with a review of the first half of the album), Kris sent the link to Katy. He anticipated sending the links to her for the next couple months, until interviewers tired of asking him about their separation, at least so she could see what Kris had said. The one thing he’d learned from before was that the fans (and some reporters) would seize on the smallest discrepancy and run with it.

The single was released on March 23rd and Kris began a two week stint of radio promo across the country to support it. They hit two, sometimes three, radio stations each day, then moved on to the next city. During his free time Kris and Lindsay went over ideas for a music video. Finally they decided on something simple – Kris sitting on a stool playing his guitar while computer generated images of various objects and shapes getting colored without adhering to the rule of staying inside the lines played on a screen behind him.

Kris also thought it would be nice to intersperse the CGI with a photo montage of various instances of people coloring outside the lines in their own lives. After thinking about it some more, Kris suggested that they use actual events, rather than made up ones, and that they ask people to send in photos and video of their experiences coloring outside the line, following the path they wanted to instead of the path society expected them to. Lindsay liked the idea. She found out about the legalities and then updated Kris’ website with the information. As soon as he had the link, Kris tweeted it out. It was retweeted by many of his fans, and picked up by some of the entertainment news blogs.

Kris had hoped that the message of the song would resonate with people, but he was stunned by the response to their call for people to send in photos and video. There were so many amazing photos, both moving and humorous, that they scrapped the idea of CGI altogether and decided to just use the images sent to them. Everything from a young girl in her football uniform to same sex couples holding hands or kissing.

From a tiny puppy sleeping with a kitten curled up next to it to a female Air Force pilot standing beside the jet she flew. From a young boy dressed up in his mother’s clothes to a before and after photo of a transgendered male. The examples of people coloring outside society’s lines were all astounding. They made Kris think about the courage it took for people to be themselves no matter the cost, because to live within the constrictions of the role society prescribed for them would stifle their creativity, their very being. Not unlike his own decisions had done.

Kris couldn’t wait to get back to Nashville and work on the video. Getting his part done would be easy – no more than a day of him singing the song so they had a couple of takes to choose from when it came to cutting the footage together. The longer job would be creating a slideshow of the photos and videos they decided to use.

In the end, it took longer for Kris’ part than he’d thought, because after filming him performing on what appeared to be an empty stage, they decided to also film him ‘recording’ the song in the studio, as well as playing on his back deck with Zorro curled up at his feet. Kris hated to watch himself perform, but he had to agree that interspersing the footage made for a more interesting visual.

Kris finally got to see the separate pieces: the slideshow and his performance, and then the finished product when both were put together. The song lyrics were made all the more powerful by the shifting images behind him.

The music video debuted on VH1 four weeks after the single was released. The single had debuted in the top 10 on iTunes. Kris credited his fans who hadn’t given up on him for that, as well as the naysayers who listened to the preview in hopes of being able to write him off as another has been, one-hit wonder attempting a pathetic come back, and were in turn pleasantly surprised by what they heard. Kris didn’t think he had a big ego, but he knew he was good, and he also knew that he could change people’s preconceived notions about him if they gave him a chance.

Radio air play had been sporadic, but once the music video hit VH1 (and then VEVO), the single started getting played more often. Kris’ street team had been reactivated and they were encouraging Kris’ fans to request the single from their local radio station. They also hosted giveaways of the iTunes version for people who wrote in with their own ‘coloring outside the lines’ experience. All the names went in a virtual hat and five winners were drawn.

Kris’ separation was getting a lot of mileage. Kris didn’t keep rack of the tabloids, but Lindsay got Google Alerts and Yahoo Alerts and every other alert you could think of on Kris’ name. She considered it part of her job to know what was being said about Kris. Kris figured the fallout from the news of his separation would break even – some of his fans who had only ever seen the squeaky clean image 19E had cultivated felt betrayed, while others who had been turned off by that same image would now find Kris more interesting.

Kris had never really cared what people thought of him – he’d been more interested in making music. He still didn’t care about public perception, though he was concerned that none of his fans blame Katy for a separation that was ultimately his own fault. Some of his fans were a bit . . . protective. (It was one reason why he and AC Music Productions was such a good fit.)

The single and the music video were out, and if Kris’ luck held, the album would be released in four weeks. They started a full push to promote the album. Kris kicked off the promotional tour with a free afternoon concert in Nashville. Lindsay took care of scheduling the outdoor venue while Kris started rehearsing. Kris borrowed Andy Skib with Cook’s blessing because Cale wasn’t available – he’d already committed to a club tour with a new band before Kris called on him for help with the album.

Chris Torres, who had been the other constant in Kris’ band, also had other responsibilities with another band. Kris would have to put together a new band when it came time for touring, but for now he refused to think about it.

That Saturday afternoon Kris gave a press conference, answering questions about his music for anyone who showed up. He even gave a one-on-one interview to a young woman for her high school newspaper. She could hardly breathe, she was so excited and nervous about the opportunity to interview Kris. At four o’clock Kris and Andy took the stage. Kris played a bunch of songs from the new album, sprinkling in a few songs from his first two. Kris thought it went very well; not all of the reviewers agreed.

“Did you know I was rusty?” Kris said when Cook opened his door the next morning.

Cook’s eyebrows went up. “Uh . . . rusty at what?”

“Singing. And playing,” Kris replied. “The Music Blog said so.”

“Oh, well, then it must be true,” Cook said wryly. He gestured for Kris to come in and shut the door behind him. “Why are you even reading those things?”

Kris shrugged. He knew he shouldn’t care, but, “I just wanted everyone to walk away last night having had the best time of their lives.”

“Most of them did,” Cook said. “Did you read the Twitter list for last night’s show?

“Yes,” Kris sighed. There had been some pretty awesome comments about the songs and his ability to put on a great show, and a few memorable comments about his hips, and Kris had let the thrill he felt from that be ruined by one unfavorable review.

It was just . . . . “I need this album to do well.”

“And it will,” Cook said confidently. “Come on. Now that I’m awake, I’m hungry.”

Kris thought about apologizing, decided instead to let Cook make him breakfast.

~*~

Kris did several more free concerts preceded by a press conference, in Little Rock, LA and NYC. He spent a couple days in each city doing radio appearances and managed to get booked as the musical guest for Late Night With Jimmy Fallon while he was in NYC.

Before the official album release, Kris already had his team working on a summer tour. He didn’t care if he headlined or opened, so long as he got to play, got to get out there and introduce people to his new music. Matchbox Twenty was going out July and August, and were happy to have Kris opening for them. They started setting up a bunch of dates for a fall tour, most of them on college campuses with local bands opening for them. Lindsay also scheduled some smaller venues for Kris during June so they could work out the kinks before the actual tour began.

Cale was onboard, but they needed at least one other person, possibly two. Cook and Andrew both assisted Kris with the auditions. Since they’d both been active in the Nashville music scene for a while, they knew a bunch of musicians, and introduced Kris to some that they thought would be a good fit. Kris ended up choosing two – Eliot Karner on guitar, and Paula Fulton on drums. He’d only really been looking for another guitarist, thinking they could be a three person band like they’d done while touring for _Thank You Camelia_ , but he’d been so impressed with Paula that he couldn’t resist expanding the concept and starting to rearrange the songs in his head.

The day the album came out, Kris was on pins and needles. He tweeted out _Today’s the day, guys! Go pick up Spring Forward!_ He watched his Twitter feed obsessively, even though he knew he shouldn’t. People squeeing about having purchased the album, listening to it for the first time, or moaning that they had to wait until payday to get it, but were listening obsessively to the previews on iTunes. He got good wishes texts and e-mails and tweets from family and friends, and he forced himself to reply calmly to each one.

Kris’ mom called, then Katy, and only to them could he admit his nerves. Andrew and Cook stopped by to visit for a while and take his mind off the fact that poor sales of his album could put the brakes on his ‘come back’. Cook stayed when Kris walked Andrew to the door. Cook regarded him speculatively when Kris returned to the living room and dropped heavily onto the couch.

“What?” Kris said.

Without answering, Cook stood and moved the coffee table out of the way. Kris’ heart skipped a beat when Cook knelt on the floor between his legs.

“Uh, what are you doing?” Kris said.

“Giving you something else to think about,” Cook said as he reached for Kris’ waistband.

“You really don’t have to do this,” Kris said, though he made no move to stop him. Kris groaned when Cook stroked him. “On second thought, you totally do.”

Cook’s chuckle cut off when he took Kris into his mouth.

Kris stared at the ceiling and tried not to come embarrassingly fast. “So,” he said. “Is this something you do for all the artists signed to your label?”

Cook hummed his response around Kris.

~*~

 _Spring Forward_ debuted at number one on iTunes that week, and number two on Billboard. Kris felt vindicated, when he wasn’t pinching himself. He still couldn’t believe it, despite the bruise on his arm.

There was a party thrown by his label that Kris’ parents drove down for, and more interviews between band practices. Though Cale was the only original member of the Kris Allen Band remaining, the four of them meshed very well. Some of them more than others. It only took Kris a week longer than anyone else to realize that Paula and Eliot had hit it off very well indeed, and were now an item.

Kris gave them the ‘don’t let it affect the band’ speech (sometimes being the boss sucked), and then suggested that they name their fist child after him, since he’d been instrumental in their meeting. Eliot looked like he wanted to throw up at the mention of children. Paula rolled her eyes and elbowed him.

“No kids,” Paula said. “But maybe a dog.”

The color started coming back to Eliot’s cheeks at that, but for days after, Kris looked at Eliot and laughed.

Kris thought about taking Zorro on the bus with him, but decided that he’d be happier at Kris’ parents’ house than confined to the cramped bus. He called Katy to tell her so she could visit and take him out if she wanted to.

The first couple of shows had some glitches with sound and guitars not being where they were supposed to be, but Kris was easy going and bantered with the audience while they waited. It didn’t hurt that most of the audience were fans who’d been waiting for years to hear new music from Kris, and to see him on stage again. He could’ve probably read from the phone book and they’d have been happy.

June passed quickly – concerts and interviews kept Kris busy, and when he did have free time he and Cale did some writing. Allison came to Kris’ show in San Diego and it didn’t take much convincing to get her to come on stage to sing their duet. The crowd went wild when Kris introduced her, nearly as happy to see Allison as they were to see Kris. If possible, they went even more wild when Allison referred to the reunion of Krallison.

Kris had a couple days off between the June leg of his Spring Forward Tour and opening for Matchbox Twenty. He spent them at his parents’ house, playing with Zorro and indulging in his mom’s cooking. When he and Cale met up for the flight to NYC, where they were opening the Matchbox Twenty tour, Kris could see that the two days off had done them both good. As much as Kris loved touring and performing, the immediate feedback he got from a live audience, he had to admit that he’d been a bit frazzled by the time they played their last show. So much rode on the success of this album.

Kris couldn’t remember having this much fun on tour since the Idol Tour. Rob’s family joined him sometimes, and pranks were not uncommon. Opening gave Kris a break from feeling the responsibility of the tour on his shoulders. He still did interviews, but Matchbox Twenty was the bigger draw. Kris didn’t mind; it gave him time to write. Sometimes with Cale, and sometimes with Cook via Skype, and a few times with Rob. And on one memorable occasion, the three of them crowded around the small table in the kitchen of Kris’ bus with Cook’s face staring back at them from the laptop screen.

“Guess who’s gonna be in Indianapolis the same time you’re there,” Allison told Kris one day when she called.

“Who?” Kris said distractedly.

“Adam,” Allison said. “I was checking both your events schedules so I can see you guys again, and I noticed that. Weird, isn’t it? Almost like fate,” She went on when Kris didn’t answer. “You should go see him.”

“That’s not going to happen, AlliCat,” Kris said gently.

Allison never brought it up again, and Kris tried to forget about it.

~*~

“Have you heard the latest about Adam?” Anoop asked.

“No,” Kris said, trying to keep his voice even to not give away the jump of his heart. It was the second time in the course of a week that someone had asked him about Adam.

After the Idol Tour, Kris had put Adam on Google Alerts. They’d still been in contact, phone calls and texts, but those seemed too few and far between. Kris had wanted to keep up with everything Adam was doing, though it had felt odd not to be hearing about those very things from the horse’s mouth, so to speak. After the KISS concert in Boston, which was the last time Kris had seen Adam, and where Kris had finally broken the news to Adam that he was staying with Katy, choosing his marriage over them, it had been the only way for him to know what Adam was up to.

The thought of not having Adam in his life in any capacity seemed inconceivable, even after having known him for such a short time. Keeping in touch was out of the question, though, even if Kris had been cruel enough to suggest it. Kris knew that if Adam had been the one to break things off, he wouldn’t have been able to put on a poker face and pretend that being friends was enough. Adam hadn’t even had to say the words; Kris realized that by choosing his marriage over Adam, he’d lost Adam completely.

Google Alerts and Twitter allowed Kris to keep up with Adam without feeling like too much of a creeper. Kris knew he should stop – seeing that Adam was getting on with his life, and knowing that he wasn’t a part of it any longer, often put Kris in a funk. Not to mention that it was counterproductive to working on his marriage. But it wasn’t until every alert seemed to be about Adam and his new love interest that Kris finally took Adam off Google Alerts. He didn’t stop following Adam on Twitter because that would raise too many questions, but he took Adam off text alerts and did his best to skip over anything that Adam tweeted when he checked his feed.

It was difficult to remain in an informational black hole about Adam, with interviewers often asking about Idol and Adam, but Kris just followed the party line and said things about texting each other (false) and Adam being a great guy (true). Once Kris made the mistake of saying that he missed talking to Adam because he’d given the best advice, and had to get drunk before he could get to sleep that night.

Once Kris put his musical career on the back burner it had been easier. He wasn’t on Twitter that much, and then he was off completely, and he wasn’t sought out for many interviews as a songwriter slash house husband. Inside that bubble Kris has been blissfully oblivious. Even now, he’d gotten so used to avoiding anything Adam related that it was second nature.

Idol had been long enough ago that interviewers only rarely threw in the obligatory question once in a while. Most were genuinely interested in his new music, while others concentrated on his separation. Kris found it ironic that he’d rather answer questions about his divorce than questions about Adam.

“I read a rumor that he’s writing a tell-all book about Idol,” Anoop said.

“Okay,” Kris said.

“The behind the scenes stuff,” Anoop explained. “Like what went on in the mansion.”

“Adam wouldn’t do that,” Kris said. Even after all this time, though he didn’t know Adam anymore, Kris thought he knew the kind of person Adam was. People could change, but he couldn’t imagine Adam changing that much.

“You should ask him about it,” Anoop said, pulling Kris out of his thoughts.

“Why me?”

“Because you two were the closest of all of us.” Anoop said it without any envy in his tone, or slyness.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Kris said.

Anoop let the subject drop and they moved on to talk about other things. The next time Kris spoke Allison, though, he asked her about the rumors. She’d heard them, but was also convinced that Adam wouldn’t do that.

“Would he?” she asked.

“You talk to him,” Kris said. “Why don’t you just ask him?”

“How did you hear about it?” Allison asked, probably hoping that Kris would admit to keeping up with Adam once more.

“Anoop,” Kris told her.

“Is he worried?” Allison said.

“He didn’t sound worried,” Kris said. “It sounded like he’d been talking to the others. I think they’d all just like to be prepared if something like that’s coming out.”

Megan was married now, and Kris wasn’t sure if she’d told her husband about the relationship she’d had with Matt and Anoop during Idol.

“You don’t think he’d tell about the time you guys let me smoke a joint with you?”

Kris choked. “Jesus, I hope not!”

“We can’t get arrested for that, can we?”

“I’m more worried about your mom finding out,” Kris said, and Allison laughed.

~*~

When they reached Indianapolis Kris grew quiet. He went to his radio appearance and nailed sound check, but he begged off when the others went out to eat before the show. It had been at the back of his mind ever since Allison mentioned that they’d be in the same city at the same time (something that Kris would’ve known, once upon a time). Seeing Adam again – the thought made his heart race even as it made his stomach twist with the threat of puking.

Asking Adam about the book rumors might be the perfect excuse to see him again. Kris would just go up to Adam’s room (Allison had made sure Kris knew what hotel Adam was staying at, the room number, and the name he was registered under). If Adam wasn’t there, then the fates would’ve spoken.

An hour later Kris stood outside Adam’s hotel room, not remembering the taxi ride over, or the climb up three flights of stairs so he wouldn’t be recognized in the elevator. He raised his hand to knock on 314, but the door opened before he could. The laughter Kris had heard from behind the door got louder. Tommy did a double-take when he saw Kris standing there, hand raised to knock.

Kris uncurled his fingers and gave Tommy a small wave. “Hi.”

“I must’ve smoked too much weed,” Tommy said. “I think I’m hallucinating.”

“Nightmare, maybe,” Kris said with a heavy dose of self-deprecation.

“I’m guessing you’re here to see Adam,” Tommy said. Without waiting for Kris’ reply, and without taking his eyes off Kris, he called back into the room, “Adam, you’ve got company.”

“Who is it?” Adam called back. “It’s not room service with more food, I hope. As it is I’m going to have to cleanse for a week when I get back home.”

“Not room service,” Tommy said as Adam appeared behind him.

“Kris,” Adam said when he caught sight of him.

“Adam,” Kris said. The name felt strange on Kris’ tongue – he’d spent so long training himself not to speak it – and yet familiar at the same time. It was almost a relief to be able to say it again without feeling guilty about it.

Kris huffed a laugh that held little humor. He noticed that Adam hadn’t come any closer once he’d seen who was at the door, and Tommy hadn’t excused himself, instead standing between them like a sentinel. “Can I come in for a few minutes?”

Tommy looked at Adam, giving him a look that clearly said, your call. Kris had no doubt that if Adam so much as shook his head no, Tommy would make sure Kris didn’t get past him.

Adam shrugged. “I’ve got a couple minutes.”

Tommy didn’t move. “Want me to stay?”

“No,” Adam said. “I’ll be fine.” Adam turned and went back into the room without waiting for Tommy to leave, or to see if Kris followed him.

Kris tried to ignore the look Tommy gave him as he stepped past him inside the room. Adam was speaking in a low voice to a woman Kris didn’t recognize. She glanced at Kris before saying something to Adam, and then ushering everyone else out of the room.

Adam got a bottle of water out of the mini-fridge. He offered it to Kris, who shook his head no before reconsidering. “Actually, yes, thank you.” Kris closed the distance between them and took the bottle. He uncapped it and took a sip to wet his suddenly dry mouth.

Adam got out a second bottle for himself. He took a drink from it while watching Kris. “What can I do for you?” Adam asked after he’d recapped the bottle.

Kris really hadn’t thought about what he’d say if he actually got to see Adam. The idea of it actually happening was so remote. Kris rubbed the back of his neck and just went for it. There was no sense in beating around the bush; he wasn’t that good at it anyway.

“Anoop told me there were rumors that you were going to write a book about Idol,” he said.

“Of course,” Adam said, sounding as if he shouldn’t have expected anything else. “After five years, this is what it would take for you to talk to me.”

Kris didn’t say anything to that. He didn’t know what _to_ say. Adam knew why Kris had kept his distance, but Kris doubted he’d gain any points by reminding Adam of it.

“Worried I’m going to tarnish your squeaky clean, straight, Christian, Southern boy image?” Adam said after he’d dropped onto the couch, pulling his legs up in a gesture that Kris recognized as protective, even if Adam didn’t realize it.

Kris had to drag his eyes away from Adam’s bare feet. “No,” he said, trying to sound casual, like he hadn’t just been ogling any part of Adam’s anatomy. “That isn’t why I came. I mean, I’m not worried about that.”

“Then why are you here?” Adam asked.

Kris shrugged. “Voted most likely to get an answer, I guess?”

“Why would anyone think that you’d succeed where they wouldn’t?”

Adam sounded interested more than sarcastic.

“Because we were friends,” Kris said.

“They’re not paying attention if they think we’re still friends,” Adam said.

It was said matter-of-factly, not with the intention to hurt, and yet the words still stung. “Yeah, well,” Kris said. “Maybe that’s why they didn’t mind putting me on the front line.”

Adam didn’t crack a smile.

“Okay, so, this was probably a bad idea.”

“You think?” Adam said.

There was the sarcasm Kris had been expecting.

“Look,” Kris said. “You don’t owe me anything, I know that, but if you could just give the others a heads up so they can, I don’t know, brace themselves, I’d, uh, I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”

Kris tried to think of something else to say – you look good; it was good seeing you – but nothing he came up with seemed appropriate.

“I’ll just . . . go,” Kris said.

“Yeah, you’re good at that,” Adam said, but he wasn’t looking at Kris anymore.

“I’m sorry I bothered you,” Kris said. “I . . . I’m sorry about a lot of things.” It was so . . . inadequate, but it was all he had, all he could offer.

Kris couldn’t look at Adam anymore. It was like that one night all over again. So Kris did the same thing he’d done back then. He left.

~*~*~*~

The Indianapolis show was manic. Cale jokingly asked Kris what had gotten into him, but Kris had nothing to tell him. He hadn’t been feeling the music so much as trying to lose himself in it. A few days later Cook showed up at the Kansas City show and Kris invited him on stage to sing one of the songs they’d written together, and on which Cook had sung harmony when they’d first recorded the song in Kris’ basement studio. After the show, Cook didn’t ask any questions when Kris took him back to his room.

They released a second single at the end of July, and since they were on the road, Kris invited his friend Matthew Leonard, who had filmed the _Alright With Me_ vid years ago, to join them and shoot some behind the scenes footage for the music video. The tour wound down, and the summer with it. Kris had a week off, and even though they needed to get read for the fall leg of the Spring Forward Tour, he called a break. The could all use some down time to relax after three months on the road before heading back out again.

Kris spent the week in Arkansas. He played with Zorro, slept late, ate too much, and met Katy’s new boyfriend. His name was Doug, and he taught biology at the same school where Katy taught.

“Biology,” Kris said. “You’re dating a biology teacher.” He shook his head. “There’s a joke in there somewhere, I just can’t think of one right now.”

Katy punched him in the arm.

“Ow,” Kris said. “That’s gonna leave a mark.”

With hugs all around (and two for Zorro), Kris and Cale flew to Portland to meet the bus and Eliot and Paula for the first concert of their tour.

The second single did even better than the first had, and the music video shot into the VH1 Top 20 its second week on the rotation. Kris’ career was doing better now than it had with the Idol Machine behind him. Probably because he knew what he wanted, and without them pushing him in the direction they thought would bring in more money, he was able to pursue that.

The divorce became final in September. Kris was in State College, Pennsylvania when he got the papers, hand delivered via Lindsay. His hand was steady when he signed them and shoved them back into the envelope. As soon as they were filed with the court, he’d be a single man again. And Katy would be able to date Doug openly without her family giving her a hard time about it.

Kris’ life was pretty perfect right now. He was making music every night, doing what he loved. Katy had met a nice guy, so Kris didn’t even have to worry about her. Not that he’d ever had to. She was a lot stronger than she might appear. The fact that she’d had the courage to end their marriage long before Kris would even have dreamt of it spoke to that. It helped, though, that he and Katy had talked enough that Kris knew bone deep that they were both better off out of their marriage.

The only regret was the way Kris had left things with Adam the last two times he’d seen him. That was something Kris was just going to have to accept because there was nothing he could do to change it.

Kris called Cook, and as soon as he answered said, “I just signed my divorce papers.”

“Wow,” Cook said. “Great opening line. How do you feel? Wait. You didn’t call for phone sex, did you?”

Kris burst out laughing. “No, I didn’t call for phone sex,” he said once he was able to talk. “Did you . . . want to?”

“No. I’m drawing the line at phone sex.”

“Good,” Kris said, “because I think I’d be horrible at it.”

“No comment,” Cook said.

“Actually, I’m okay,” Kris said, changing the subject back to the reason he’d called. “I just needed to tell someone that. Everyone here thinks I’m being all weird when I say it.”

“You are being weird,” Paula said, flicking Kris’ ear as she walked past him.

“But we love you anyway,” Eliot added. “Though not in a threesome kind of way.”

“Speak for yourself,” Cale said, eliciting laughter from everyone.

“You totally want some of this,” Kris told Eliot.

“Why did you need to call me, again?” Cook asked.

“A dose of sanity,” Kris said.

~*~

Kris released a third single in November. Matt came back out with them and got some concert footage for the music video. The tour ended just before Thanksgiving, which was perfect timing. Kris stopped off in Arkansas for the week of Thanksgiving, planning on returning to Nashville at the end of the week. He contacted the lady that cleaned his house while he’d been living in Nashville and asked her to spruce up the place before he got back. In the meantime, he once again spent his days sleeping too late and eating too much.

It was great not to have a schedule to keep, but it also felt strange knowing that he wouldn’t be going back out on tour after this visit home. Everything seemed just a little bit off kilter, like a sailor needing to turn in his sea legs for land legs.

Katy hosted a part on the Friday night after Thanksgiving. Kris went because he’d promised to put in an appearance. He met a guy named James, who he thought was a friend of Doug’s, who was also a fellow Packers fan, and they hit it off. James only listened to country music, so he had no idea who Kris Allen was.

“Not from Arkansas, are you?” Kris said dryly.

James laughed and admitted to being a Texas boy through and through.

“Except when it comes to football,” Kris clarified.

“College football,” James said.

Kris mentioned a liking for Garth Brooks and they talked a bit about music. After a few drinks, James invited Kris to join him outside for a smoke. Kris didn’t smoke, but he could use the fresh air, so he accepted. Kris laughed when James produced a joint and offered Kris the first hit.

“Katy is going to kill me if she finds out about this,” Kris said as he brought the joint to his lips.

“So will Doug,” James said as he reached for the joint Kris held out to him.

The night was clear, and it seemed like Kris could see every star in the sky. He had a pleasant buzz from the beer, and was feeling loose and relaxed thanks to the weed. Kris didn’t pull away when James leaned in to kiss him. He didn’t say no when James curled his fingers around Kris’ hip and tugged him closer. He didn’t refuse when James invited him up to the guest room he was calling home for the long weekend.

The next morning Kris hoped he could sneak out early without having to do the walk of shame. Unfortunately, Katy was already up, and she had ears like, well, like something that had really good hearing. Kris slunk into the kitchen when she called out his name. Katy sat at the small kitchen table, doing a very bad job of hiding her smirk behind the rim of her coffee cup.

“Have fun last night?” Katy asked with way too much perk in her tone for Kris’ liking.

Kris groaned. “Are we really going to talk about this?”

“You bet your bippy we are, mister,” Katy said. “Sit down. I’ll pour you a cup of coffee to help you through it.”

Kris sat down, but only because trying to sneak out now while Katy’s back was turned would only get him in even more trouble. “Actually,” he said. “This conversation might be more bearable if I’m not fully awake for it.”

Katy gave Kris a look as she set the cup of coffee in front of him. “If you’re going to sleep with someone else under my roof, you can expect to be interrogated about it. Especially.” Katy sat back down and stared intently at Kris. “When you sleep with the brother of the man I’m dating.”

“What?” Kris said, wondering if he’d heard right.

“James,” Katy said. “He’s Doug’s brother.”

When Kris didn’t answer right away, Katy giggled. “You didn’t know that?”

“No!” Kris said, as if it was all Katy’s fault. “Oh, man. Awkward.”

“Could be more awkward,” Katy said. “You could decide to date him.”

“Could you imagine the family get-togethers?” Kris said, and they both laughed.

Doug appeared in the kitchen doorway, looking like he’d just crawled out of bed. “What’s so funny?” he asked as he followed his nose and shuffled his way over to the coffee pot.

“Kris didn’t know James was your brother,” Katy said before Kris could stop her.

“Oh, god,” Kris groaned. “Don’t tell him that.”

Doug dropped a kiss to the top of Katy’s head, then gave Kris’ arm a clumsy pat as he sat. “I’m sure you two had better things to do than talk.”

“I thought you were the nice one,” Kris complained.

Katy giggled and did some weird finger thing with Doug.

“Hey!” Katy said. “I wonder if James knows you’re my ex.”

“Wait.” James’ voice came from behind Kris. “You’re _that_ Kris?”

Kris groaned and dropped his head onto his crossed arms.

“Awkward,” James said jovially, patting Kris on the shoulder as he padded past on his way to the coffee machine.

Kris sighed. “That’s what I said.”

~*~

Andrew drove Kris’ Edge up on Saturday to pick up Kris and Zorro. He stayed the night and they drove back to Nashville Sunday afternoon. They made a few pit stops for Zorro and dropped off Andrew before heading to the house. It felt strange to be there again after nearly six months on the road, but also a relief to once more be in a space that was just his. Kris put Zorro outside so he could reacquaint himself with the backyard rather than mark anything inside the house. Kris stood on the deck, hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans, and watched Zorro. He took a deep breath, and felt a tightness that he didn’t even realize was there ease.

Kris couldn’t eat breakfast without his notebook close to hand, but he gave himself a few days to settle back in before scheduling any writing sessions. He went grocery shopping, met Cook for lunch, and took Zorro for walks in the park. He went to Andrew’s for dinner and went through his DVR to see what had recorded while he was gone.

A few days was all Kris needed before he was ready to buckle down and start writing. He thought there might be one more single left on _Spring Forward_ , but it was never too soon to start thinking about the next album. Kris had done some writing while he was on tour, but none of them had been recorded, and some of them might benefit from having someone else take a look at them. Kris talked to Andrew and Cook about scheduling some time in his basement studio.

A week later Kris and Andrew were at Cook’s house with a few other people watching the Grammy Nominations Concert, still hosted by LL Cool J, though Taylor Swift had been replaced by the next big thing, a name Kris didn’t recognize. Kris went to the kitchen to get a fresh beer and got caught up in a conversation with Cook’s brother, Andrew. A loud ruckus – cheers and screams – from the multi-media room brought them both up short. They started back to see what was going on and were met by Cook, who looked like he’d just won the lottery.

“What?” Kris said, but he couldn’t ask anything else because Cook picked him up and swung him around, knocking the bottle into the wall and spilling beer onto the floor.

“Oh my god, what?” Kris groaned. “I can’t breathe!”

“Lassie says that something exciting just happened,” Andrew translated.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Cook said. He put Kris down and swatted at his brother’s head. Andrew ducked, and Kris wondered how often that scene played out in their household.

Cook grabbed Kris by the hand and dragged him back down the hallway. “Rewind it,” Cook said before they’d even fully entered the room.

A moment later, two people Kris vaguely recognized as being famous at something were reading off the nominations for Song of the Year. Kris wasn’t sure he’d heard right, but even without him having to ask someone rewound the program again so Kris could once more hear his name announced as the writer of _Coloring Outside The Lines_ , one of the nominations for Song of the Year.

Kris was stunned speechless. He was hugged and clapped on the back, and still his brain was stuck in neutral. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Is this real?” Kris asked more than once.

He’d just wanted to perform again, to make good music that he was proud of. He’d never really expected that one of his songs would be nominated for a Grammy. Kris’ hands shook when he took out his phone. He sent a quick tweet, _watching the grammy nom concert, still can’t bel it, thank you._ Once that was sent he called his parents. Kris managed to make his legs work and get him to the back of the room where it was a little quieter.

“Kris, hi!” Kris’ mom said. “What’s up, honey?”

“Hey, mom,” Kris said. “Do you happen to be watching the Grammy Nominations Concert?”

“No. Should we be?”

“No, I think it’s too late,” Kris said, but she’d moved the phone away from her mouth and called out, “Neil, turn on the Grammy Nominations Concert!”

“What are we supposed to be looking for?” Kim asked when she returned to the phone.

“I think it’s too late for you to see it live,” Kris said, his voice shaking, “but _Coloring Outside The Lines_ just got nominated for Song of the Year.”

Kim squeed out her joy at the news and called for Kris’ dad. Kris had to pull the phone away from his ear when she yelled the good news to him.

“Oh my gosh, sweetheart, that’s wonderful news! I’m so proud of you. We both are,” she added when Kris’ dad called out something in the background.

“Thanks, mama,” Kris said.

“Your father’s looking it up on Youtube now.”

Kris laughed. “I think it might be too soon for that.”

Kris’ mom said something, but Kris couldn’t hear her over the loud yells suddenly filling the room, as well as the more muted yell from his dad over the phone.

“What?” Kris said as he was mobbed. Andrew got to him first, but he was soon engulfed in a group hug. He heard his mom questioning his dad over the phone, and finally the words everyone was yelling started to coalesce and make sense.

“Are you kidding me?” Kris said.

“Kris!” Kim said excitedly. “Oh my goodness, Kris!”

“I can’t believe it,” Kris said, talking into the phone and to the others around him.

“Congratulations, sweetheart,” Kim said.

“We paused the show so we could rewind it,” Cook told Kris.

Kris’ knees buckled when everyone released him. Andrew caught him and led Kris closer to the big screen where, thanks to modern technology, Kris was able to see _Spring Forward_ being nominated for Album of the Year. He didn’t even know what to say.

“We’re so proud of you, son,” Neil said.

Kris could hear the tears in his dad’s voice, and the soft sniffles coming from his mom. “Thank you,” he said. “I love you both.”

“We love you, too,” Neil said gruffly.

“I’ll talk to you both tomorrow, when I’m a little bit more with it,” Kris said.

As soon as they finished saying their goodbyes and Kris ended the call, he was grabbed up in another hug by Andrew.

“Congratulations, dude,” Andrew said.

“Thanks, man,” Kris said. “And thanks for your help with the album. It wouldn’t have been nearly as good without you.”

“You’re more than welcome. Any time.”

Kris shook hands with everyone else, thanking them for congratulations he still couldn’t believe were due him. When he reached Cook, Kris clasped both his upper arms and gave him a little shake.

“This one’s for you, too, man.”

Cook laughed. “I’ll take the credit for being the one to sign you.” He pulled Kris into a hug and clapped him on the back. “Congratulations.”

They watched the relevant nominations three more times before Kris was convinced that it wasn’t a mistake. When Kris checked his phone again, he already had a bunch of congratulatory tweets and texts. Kris glanced at them, but was too amped up to be able to reply to any of them right then.

Kris typed in a quick tweet, _still can’t bel it, more coherent response tom_ , and then turned off his phone so he wouldn’t be tempted to keep checking it. Kris drank his warming beer and tried to calm down while the conversation whirred around him. Kris tried to join in, but his mind was pretty much consumed with trying to make sense of the whole thing.

Andrew was the first to say his goodbyes and Kris thought he managed to thank him again and say goodbye, but he missed the others taking their leave until suddenly Kris realized that the only sound in the room was Ryan Seacrest droning on in the background. When he looked around, he and Cook were the only ones left in the room.

“You okay?”

Kris held up one hand. It shook. “Still having trouble believing it’s real. I’m not going to be able to sleep at all tonight. I’m having nightmares of sitting at the computer all night, reading all the reaction posts. And when the shock wears off, I’ll start drinking caffeine.” He laughed. “It’s not going to be pretty.”

Cook gave Kris a look.

Kris laughed again, a little nervously this time, though he didn’t know why. It wasn’t the first time they’d done this. “Seriously?”

“Might be the first time for celebratory sex,” Cook said.

“Wow, that’s . . . kinda pathetic, actually.”

“If you don’t want to . . . .”

The thing was, Kris did want to. He felt like ants were crawling under his skin, and the only way to get rid of them was to work them out. Except, “I’m not sure if I’m using you, or if you just feel really sorry for me.”

Cook gave Kris a look. “It’s not a hardship,” he drawled. “But if it makes you feel better, maybe we’re both using each other.”

Kris thought of the name Cook never mentioned, and wondered if he knew who it was that made Kris feel regret. “As long as it’s not a hardship,” Kris said, and smiled when he made Cook laugh.

~*~

_Congratulations @KrisAllen!_

Kris stared at the tweet until Cook said, “What’s wrong?”

Kris blinked and pulled his gaze from the screen. “Nothing, really.”

“You were staring pretty intently at the screen.”

“Yeah. I got a, uh, tweet from Adam. You know, congratulating me.”

Cook shrugged. “You’ve gotten a lot of those. Something special about that one?”

Kris had been reading his @replies, retweeting and replying to the ones from his friends from Idol (even Danny Gokey had tweeted him), as well as people like Slezak and Cantiello, Lyndsey Parker and Ryan Seacrest, and other people in the industry. He had never expected to hear from Adam, especially after Indianapolis. Kris didn’t know what it meant.

“It’s just that it’s been a while since . . . we don’t . . . .”

“Ah,” Cook said. “Got it.”

Kris looked at him. “Got what?”

“Adam’s your one.”

Kris swallowed hard. “My one what?”

“The one who makes you wonder ‘what if’,” Cook said, and Kris could tell that he had some what ifs of his own. “I thought maybe. I mean, the way you guys were with each other at the Good Morning America thing we did, and then suddenly nothing.”

“Yeah,” Kris said softly. “That was my fault.”

“That’s when we have the biggest regrets,” Cook said thoughtfully. “When it’s our fault.”

Kris sighed. “Yeah.”

He quickly hit ‘retweet with comment’ and typed in _Thanks, man!_ and hit send before he could second guess himself.

~*~

Kris thought the two months before the Grammy Awards show would crawl, but they went by pretty quickly. The next couple of days after the nominations were announced, Kris did more phone-in interviews than he could count. The first one was with Ryan Seacrest, who set Kris at ease and didn’t laugh when Kris said he still couldn’t believe it. They talked about _Coloring Outside The Lines_ and _Spring Forward_ , as well as the current single, and then Ryan invited Kris to come on the show when he was in LA for the awards show.

Kris spent a week at home for Christmas, and then he was back in Nashville, ready to get busy recording some of his new songs and begin the process of creating his next album. Cook was doing promo for the first single off his new album, so Cale came down and he and Andrew helped Kris in his home studio. Kris and Cale went through his notebook and chose a handful of songs to start with. While they did that, Andrew pulled out one of Kris’ older notebooks and flipped through it. He sat down at the table with them. Kris looked up when he noticed how quiet Andrew had gotten.

“What did you find?” Kris asked.

Andrew handed over the notebook and Kris felt like he’d been punched in the gut when he saw which song Andrew had been looking at.

“It’s beautiful,” Andrew said. “Painful, but beautiful. You should think about recording it.”

Kris shook his head. “I wrote this a couple years ago. Right after I came to Nashville. I’m not in that place anymore,” he lied. He didn’t think he’d never not have regrets where Adam was concerned.

Kris buried the notebook beneath the others and tried to forget about the song. They went into the studio and recorded. Cale returned to Arkansas after two weeks. Kris and Andrew spent some time playing with the tracks, and before Kris knew it, Lindsay was calling to remind him of his flight information and the interviews and appearances he’d been booked for during the week before the awards show. He hadn’t even started packing yet.

Kris drove to Arkansas to drop off Zorro with his parents and flew out of Little Rock. He was on the go almost from the moment he stepped off the plane and met the car Lindsay had sent for him, starting with an appearance on Ryan Seacrest’s radio program, and culminating with an appearance on The Ellen Show, with interviews at Backstage at the Grammy’s in between.

Kris had been so busy, with barely a moment to breathe, that he hadn’t had time to think about the fact that he might run into Adam at one of the Grammy pre-parties. Kris was thankful that Cook had flown in for the weekend to attend the pre-parties and the awards show with him. On the red carpet leading to Clive Davis’ annual party, Kris was blind-sided with the news that Adam was there.

“You two haven’t seen each other in a while,” the interviewer said. “I bet you have a lot to catch up on.”

Kris was still reeling from the news that he and Adam would be in the same room, might come face to face, and was glad that Cook was there to field the question, giving Kris a chance to recover.

“It’ll be like an Idol reunion in there,” Cook said. “Maybe we’ll rush the stage so the three of us can sing another song together.”

Kris managed a chuckle he hoped didn’t sound forced. “It’ll be great to see Adam again,” he lied through his teeth.

Thankfully Kris and Adam and their friendship from Idol was old news, and the interviewer moved on to other questions. Also luckily, she didn’t seem to think Kris and Cook were star power enough to waste too much time on despite their Grammy nomination, and they were soon ushered down the red carpet to the next station where they paused to pose for photos and to answer questions once more, rinse and repeat.

No one else asked about Adam, and Kris felt like he’d dodged a bullet until they finally made it off the red carpet and past the entrance to the actual party. As they made their way to the bar (and a well-deserved drink), Kris caught a glimpse of Adam across the crowded room. Almost immediately Adam was swallowed back up by the shifting throng of people. Part of Kris longed to find a spot where he could be hidden from the room and still have a good view of Adam so he could look his fill.

The self-preservation part of Kris knew that was a bad idea. He’d only made it through the last few years by forgetting Adam and the love they’d once shared. And if he hadn’t quite managed to forget, he’d done his damned best to ignore those feelings, to ignore the memories, and the part of him that had died a little bit at the expression of hurt he’d put on Adam’s face. Leaving Adam had been like tearing off a vital piece of himself. All he was left with now was the phantom pain.

Anyway, Kris thought, shaking those thoughts away. It was best for both of them if they didn’t get close enough that they’d be expected to talk, forcing them to pretend that they were still friendly, if not quite friends, despite being out of touch for so long. It would be difficult for Kris (who still wondered if Adam’s tweeted congratulations was sincere, or if he’d merely been keeping up appearances), but more importantly, he couldn’t do that to Adam.

Kris and Cook found the bar and then set out to mingle. Kris wasn’t good at schmoozing, so the beer helped with that, as did imagining that he was on stage and letting that persona take over. Kris struck up conversations with a few people he knew, and Cook introduced him to a few others.

Once the word got out that Kris and Cook had arrived, they weren’t left alone for a second. A lot of people, it seemed, wanted to congratulate them. Some Kris knew, a few Kris recognized, and others were strangers to him, famous enough (in their own mind, at least), to not feel the need to introduce themselves. Kris would have to look up the list of attendees later to see who all he’d been talking to.

At one point Kris and Cook got separated, but it didn’t matter because there always seemed to be someone stepping in to fill any vacancy left in the space around Kris. Until suddenly Kris made his thanks to the last person who’d been hanging in the wings, and he was alone in a sea of swirling, laughing bodies. It felt kind of eerie. Kris looked at his long-ago emptied glass and decided to find the nearest bar for a refill. He totally deserved it after tonight.

“You’re quite popular tonight,” a familiar voice said from behind Kris.

Kris spun on his heels, somehow able to make the move despite his heart seizing in his chest. “Adam!”

The glimpse Kris had gotten of Adam earlier didn’t do him justice. This close, Kris could see the freckles on his bottom lip. When he found himself wondering who’d helped Adam with his hair, Kris tamped down on that line of thought.

“You look amazing,” Kris said, cringing inside as he spoke words so close to his heart. “As always,” he added, trying to make light of the observation.

Adam just looked at Kris, then he said, “You must’ve missed the poncho disaster.”

Kris gaped at Adam, then snapped his jaw shut. “You tried to pull off a poncho?” Kris realized how that must sound, and added, “Of course, if anyone could, it would be you.”

Adam snorted. “Not so much, really.” There was a pause before Adam continued. “You received my tweet . . . .”

“Yes,” Kris said eagerly, glad to have something to contribute. “I was, um, surprised to hear from you. Pleasantly surprised,” he quickly added.

“Well, I just wanted to congratulate you in person, so, congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Kris said, at the same time Adam said, “You really deserve it.”

They both smiled when they realized they’d talked over each other. They fell silent. There were so many things Kris wanted to ask, like how have you been, but they were all very loaded questions no matter how innocent they appeared. Just as the silence started to slide into uncomfortable, Adam spoke.

“You didn’t tell me you were getting a divorce. In Indianapolis.”

Kris was so surprised that Adam had gone there that it took him a few seconds to recover and formulate an answer. “No.” Kris shook his head. “I figured it was much too late to matter.”

Adam looked like he was going to respond to that, but Cook suddenly appeared at their side. “Oh my god,” he said, laughing. “I think I just got groped by an eighty-year-old woman.”

“I’m not sure whether condolences or congratulations are in order,” Kris said.

“Bite me,” Cook said before turning to Adam. “Adam, hi! They told us outside that you were here. I wondered if we’d manage to run into you.”

Kris blushed at the implication that _he’d_ wondered.

“I wanted to congratulate Kris personally,” Adam said. “Congratulations to you, as well. I haven’t had a chance to tell Kris, but the album is amazing.”

“You’ve listened to it?” Kris said, sure the expression on his face revealed just how gobsmacked he felt at that revelation.

“Well, it was a chore,” Cook said, leaning in conspiratorially. “I didn’t have much to work with.”

Kris barked out a laugh that drew glances. “Thanks a lot, man.”

“No, seriously,” Cook said. “This guy made it easy.”

“Yeah,” Adam agreed. “People always had a tendency to underestimate Kris until they heard him sing.”

“They’re not underestimating him now,” Cook said, and he and Adam clinked glasses.

“I feel like I’m not even here,” Kris said.

“Oh, hey, Kris,” Cook said, as if just noticing him.

Adam snorted, which made all of them laugh. They all talked for a few minutes more, the conversation moving away from Kris to the other nominees, and then to some of the people in attendance at the party, until Kris noticed a woman gesturing to Adam.

“I think someone’s trying to get your attention,” Kris told Adam.

Adam glanced over, then sighed. “She must’ve found someone else for me to meet. I’d better go before she comes over here.” Adam looked at Kris, and for a moment Kris saw a hint of the old Adam in the way he didn’t seem to want to leave. Adam touched Kris’ arm, and Kris had to hold himself back from throwing himself into Adam’s arms just like old times.

“Congratulations again, Kris.”

“Thank you, Adam. It means a lot,” Kris choked out.

Adam squeezed Kris’ arm, and then he was gone. Kris had to swallow hard to keep the tears back.

“You wanna get out of here?” Cook asked.

“Yes,” Kris said fervently. “Please.”

It took them longer to leave than Kris wanted, since they were stopped several times on their way to the door, but finally they were in the car.

“You alright?” Cook asked when they were alone behind the glass separating them from the driver.

“No,” Kris admitted.

“You wanna come back to the hotel?”

Kris huffed a laugh. “Am I that predictable?” he asked. “But no. Not that I don’t appreciate the offer. I think I’m gonna get drunk. It’s more manly than crying.”

In the end, Kris did neither. He changed out of the suit Lindsay had ordered for him, into a comfortable pair of sweats. Instead of a beer he got a glass of water. Kris sat on the bed in John’s guestroom and booted up his laptop. As soon as his Google homepage came up, Kris entered Adam’s name. He was suddenly seized with the urge to find out everything he could about Adam, everything he’d missed while he was busy trying to forget about him.

~*~

Kris woke up with a crick in his neck and his laptop tilted precariously off his legs and very close to the edge of the bed. The screen was dark, having gone into hibernation mode. Kris was tempted to wake it, but decided that he needed to pee before returning to his research.

Once he was up, Kris decided to take a shower and get breakfast. Dressed once more in comfortable clothes perfect for lounging about until he had to put on another suit. Adam was still on his mind, though, so when he saw his lonely bottle of hair gel sitting amongst his other toiletries, Kris separated them. He set the gel and his small black plastic comb to one side of the bathroom counter and took a picture of those two items with his phone.

Kris tweeted the photo with the caption _it ain’t easy getting ready for this award show._ He tucked his cell into his pocket and headed to the kitchen. After Kris told John all about the party the night before (minus the Adam bits), he returned to Project: Stalk Adam.

He’d Googled Adam to get more recent information on what he’d been up to, finding interviews from Backstage at the Grammy’s, and performances from New Year’s Eve and various Jingle Ball events. He’d also found many pictures of Adam doing everything from posing on the red carpet, performing on some stage, and holding a vile looking green drink as he walked down the sidewalk. And he’d found a mention of Adam being single again.

Kris told himself not to get excited about that tidbit because it had nothing to do with him. Adam congratulating him on a Grammy nomination was a far cry from Adam wanting to give them a second chance. Still, Kris couldn’t resist looking into that further now. The break up had happened in October, just before Halloween because there were several headlines about a newly single Adam out on the town. Kris tried not to wonder if the break up had anything to do with all the headlines about his divorce being final that cropped up not long before that. Kris laughed at himself. Thinking like that would only lead him down the path of heartache and sorrow.

Kris went back further. He pulled up several blogs devoted to Adam and scrolled through them, pausing once in a while to listen to a concert video. A mistake, because watching Adam move on stage reminded Kris all too much of how Adam had moved in bed.

Kris owned Adam’s first album, _For Your Entertainment_ , but he didn’t know what had happened to it, so he downloaded all three of Adam’s albums from iTunes and put them on his phone. He made an Adam playlist on his iTunes and played it on shuffle while he continued to track Adam’s life back to early 2011 when Kris had stopped keeping up with him.

Seeing Adam’s life in reverse was strange – reading about Adam’s new boyfriend, Cameron before he got to the apparently amicable break up with Sauli. It also felt weird to distill almost six years of Adam’s life into sound bites and headlines and videos. And sometimes Kris would discover something that made him think he should’ve been there when they occurred in Adam’s life – his own Grammy win, the birth of his godson, touring with Queen. He’d missed out on so much.

Kris gave a humorless laugh. He was acting as if that was over now. As if from here forward he wouldn’t have to keep up with Adam via Google. Which was wishful thinking. And destructive. Kris closed the laptop and checked his watch. There were still a couple hours before Cook was due to arrive with the car that would take them both to the Grammy’s.

“You okay?” John said when Kris flopped onto the couch.

“I saw Adam last night,” Kris blurted out.

After a slight hesitation, John said, “How’d that go?”

“Well, actually,” Kris said. Except for the aftermath. But that was all on him. He couldn’t feel sorry for himself for wanting the one thing he couldn’t have, because he’d once had that very thing. And he’d let it go.

“Then why are you moping?”

Kris sighed. “The what ifs are killing me.”

~*~

Kris’ phone vibrated in his pocket because he’d forgotten to turn it off. He excused himself from the interview that he and Cook were giving Ryan Seacrest to pull out his phone and turn it off. Since he had it out anyway, Kris decided to read the tweet his phone had signaled. He groaned when he saw it, wishing he hadn’t put Adam back on text alerts.

“What is it?” Ryan asked.

Kris started to say that it was nothing, but then he realized that everyone would know about the very public tweet soon, if they didn’t already, regardless of what he told Ryan. Kris held out the phone so Ryan could see the screen. “Tweet from Adam.”

Ryan read the tweet out loud. “Who knew that @KrisAllen would one day be a fashion icon, and best dressed on the Grammy red carpet?”

After reading the tweet, Ryan gave the camera a meaningful look and said, “Uh, Adam, I think you’re overlooking someone.” Ryan preened for the camera, then said, “Like David Cook, here.”

Kris was glad for the camera and attention being off him because he could feel the heat in his cheeks and knew he was blushing. The attention was soon back, though, when Ryan tossed him another question.

“Adam wasn’t a fan of the plaid, I take it?”

Kris laughed, hoping it didn’t sound hysterical. He remembered how Adam had enjoyed taking the plaid off him. “No,” he said. “Adam wasn’t a huge fan.”

“What’s wrong with plaid?” Cook asked.

“I know, right?” Kris said.

It wasn’t until they were inside, grabbing a drink from the free bar before the ceremony, that Kris realized it hadn’t hurt to speak of Adam.

~*~

Kris didn’t remember much about the show. He remembered some great performances, and standing a bunch of times when winners were announced. He spent most of his time worrying about his upcoming categories. Not because he thought he would win, but because he knew the camera would be on him when his name was announced and he knew he would probably look a little like a deer in the headlights.

When they finally announced Song of the Year, Kris pasted a smile on his face that he hoped didn’t look too fake. He clapped when the other nominations were read off, the music video for each song playing on the screen behind the presenters, and tried not to look too much like a dork when _Coloring Outside The Lines_ and his name were announced.

He watched the presenters open the envelope and read off the name of the winning song, but it took until Cook elbowed Kris in the side for him to realize that he’d won. Forever afterwards they would play the clip of Kris saying, “What? Me?” alongside the clip of his surprised reaction when he won Idol nearly seven years before.

Kris stood up and he must’ve looked like he might faint because Cook grabbed him up in a hug and told him, “You’ve got this.”

Kris shook hands with a couple people he didn’t know because they were standing in the aisle and reaching out to him. He was relieved when he saw Keith Urban standing and watching him, and grateful to accept a steadying hand clasp from him, and a congratulations from Nicole. Kris took the steps to the stage, silently chanting, don’t trip, don’t trip. He hugged the presenters and took the award from them. Then it was just Kris and the microphone.

“This is heavier than it looks,” Kris said, and received some soft laughter. “I don’t have a speech prepared. I didn’t think I’d win. There were so many great songs in this category.”

Kris took a breath. “Everything I am goes back to my parents and the support they’ve given me my whole life. And to Katy, who always encouraged me. To David Cook, who took a chance on me with this album. My buddies Cale and Andrew. My fans, of course, who are the best fans in the world because they waited, maybe not so patiently, for me to make this album. And probably so many other people who helped me along the way to this point. Thank you.”

Kris stepped away from the podium, found his presenters and let them lead him off the stage. Backstage was bustling with activity. In a way, it reminded him of Idol. Someone stuck a microphone in Kris’ face and asked him how he felt.

“I’m still a little bit in shock,” Kris said. “I really never expected this. I’m sure I forgot to thank someone important.”

The rest of the show passed in a blur. _Spring Forward_ didn’t win Album of the Year, but since Kris hadn’t expected to win anything at all, he wasn’t disappointed. Cook found Kris after the show and congratulated him again. Together they made their way to the first of many after-parties. Everywhere they went there were cameras and microphones and reporters wanting a minute of his time. Near the end of Kris’ evening, when it was late and Kris was high from everything – from seeing Adam again last night, from the unexpected win, from the free flowing champagne – one of the reporters asked Kris if he had any regrets.

“Of course,” Kris said. “I think everyone has some regrets, things they wished they’d done differently.”

“Care to share one with us?” she asked.

The smile on her face told Kris that she was merely looking for a cute or funny story, not an earth shattering revelation, but Kris figured it was time to put up or shut up. Go big or go home. It might not make any difference, probably wouldn’t, but he owed Adam, owed himself, this much. Kris threw caution to the wind and said, “The biggest regret I have, and I think Katy would be the first to agree with me, well, maybe the second, was thinking that I could make my marriage work when I was in love with someone else.”

The woman recovered quickly from her surprise. “Care to name names?” she said with a smile.

Kris smiled back. “No.”

~*~*~*~

Kris refused to elaborate on his comment, but that didn’t stop the paparazzi from following him around and tossing questions at him, hoping to get him to react. He’d have to send Katy a dozen roses every week for a month in apology for the paps descending on her, as well.

After the win, Kris was once again bombarded with congratulatory texts and tweets. Adam tweeted _Congrats @KrisAllen! About time your talent was recognized._ Kris tweeted back _Thank you. That means a lot to me._

Idol called. Now that Kris was a Grammy-winning song writer with a Grammy-nominated album under his belt, he was an asset they wanted to take advantage of. Kris was scheduled to perform the third week of March. There were even more interviews and appearances than there had been when he’d received the nominations. Kris had never been so in demand, not even when he’d won Idol.

A couple weeks after the Grammy’s, they released the fourth single off _Spring Forward_. Between writing and recording for the new album, Kris shot another music video. This one was more of a concept video, and Kris had fun making it.

Kris tried not to think too far ahead to his return to LA, but he wondered if he’d see Adam again. Maybe Adam would be at the Idol taping. Or maybe Kris was grasping at straws. And maybe if he wanted to see Adam again (wanted to see if Adam was willing to see him), Kris would have to be proactive.

It took Kris three times to send the request. Since he no longer had Adam’s phone number, Kris had to send a direct message via Twitter. He checked it several times, rewording it, and making sure it was in fact private and not a tweet before sending it. _I’ll be in LA for Idol end of March. Can we get together?_

Between writing and recording his own songs, Kris also listened to Adam’s music as often as he could. He’d found some sites that even offered mp3s of Adam’s concerts. Kris was loathe to admit how much time he spent wondering which songs Adam might’ve written with him in mind. Or somewhere in the back of his mind.

Of course, Kris’ entire first album had been about Adam, especially _Bring It Back_ , which Kris had written after Ford Day. And if there wasn’t irony in that, he didn’t know what would qualify. And _Leave You Alone_ , as well, from his second album. Kris had written that song after breaking things off with Adam, and started singing live when it appeared that Adam had moved on.

Which might explain why Kris thought he was hallucinating when he checked the peep hole (Kris didn’t just open the door to anyone now that the paps had found his house) and saw Adam standing on his front porch. Kris’ hand shook a little bit when he pulled the door open.

“Adam! What are you doing here?” Kris glanced past Adam to make sure that no paps were camped out on his street, and then reached out to drag Adam into the house. “Get inside,” Kris told him. “I’m suddenly interesting to the paparazzi again.”

Kris shut and locked the door, and then took a good look at Adam. Even though his shock at seeing Adam standing on his doorstep hadn’t worn off, Kris couldn’t help seeing the humor in Adam’s disguise. Kris felt the corner of his lips twitch.

“Dusty Madrid’s cowboy cousin?” Kris asked.

“Billie Bob,” Adam said seriously, which made Kris snort. “You don’t think I look like a real cowboy?” Adam asked, holding out his arms and twirling around.

Kris had to force himself to check out Adam’s outfit rather than his ass. Adam’s skinny jeans were tucked into a pair of cowboy boots that didn’t have a scuff on them and still wore the shine of newness. He wore a leopard print shirt under a short-waisted suede jacket with actual fringe on the sleeves. It was all topped off with a cowboy hat tilted precariously on his head.

“A cowboy in porn, maybe,” Kris said.

Adam laughed at that description. “Perfect.”

Silence fell between them, but before it could grow uncomfortable, Adam said, “Who’s this?”

“That’s Zorro,” Kris said as Adam squatted down (how he could in those jeans, Kris didn’t know) and held out his hand to Zorro.

Zorro sniffed Adam’s fingers and then allowed Adam to scritch behind his ears. When Adam straightened, Zorro sniffed at Adam’s boots.

“Uh uh,” Adam said, wagging a finger at Zorro. “No chewing on the boots. They’re real leather, and cost me six hundred bucks. Wait, what am I saying? They’re cowboy boots.” Adam toed off the boots. “Chew on them all you want.”

Zorro sniffed happily at his prize. Kris tore his eyes away from Adam’s bare feet and picked the boots up off the floor, giving Zorro a rub in return for taking away his new chew toy.

“You know, they say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but let’s not try and teach him to chew on shoes,” Kris said lightly as he set the boots inside the coat closet.

“Afraid he’s gonna chew on yours . . . oh, wait.”

“Haha,” Kris said, glancing down as his old pair of sneakers. “They’re comfortable.”

Silence threatened to fall again. “Can I get you something to drink?” Kris said to fill it. (And also to be polite. His mama raised him right.)

“Water?” Adam said.

“I don’t have any bottles,” Kris told him, starting for the kitchen. “Filtered okay?”

“That’s fine,” Adam said.

Kris did some deep breathing when he went to the kitchen for the water. By the time he carried the glass back to Adam, Kris was feeling marginally more prepared to face him.

Adam sat on the couch, Zorro standing with his front paws on Adam’s knee and accepting Adam’s scratches as his due. Kris handed over the glass of water, and then stood there for a second, trying not to notice that Adam had removed the cowboy hat and tried to fluff his hair a little bit with his fingers, before seating himself in one of the chairs.

They were quiet for a few minutes, Adam sipping at the water and rubbing Zorro’s ears, and Kris watching him, drinking in the sight of Adam as if he was an oasis, and Kris a man dying in the desert.

Finally Kris said, “You gonna tell me why you’re here?”

“You wanted to get together,” Adam said.

Kris remembered the DM he’d sent to Adam a couple days ago, to which Adam hadn’t responded. Until now, Kris amended.

“In LA!”

Adam gave Kris a sheepish smile. “I didn’t want to wait that long.”

Kris’ heart leapt in his chest.

“I thought we should talk.”

“Right, yes,” Kris said, trying to rein in his emotions.

“We haven’t done that.”

“No.”

“I don’t know where to start,” Adam said.

“Me neither.” Still, Kris thought he should be the one to go first. He had broken Adam’s heart, and Adam had made the first overture with the tweets, not to mention he’d flown all the way to Nashville to see Kris.

“I’m sorry,” Kris said. “That I hurt you. I was wrong.”

“Yeah, I got that last one,” Adam said wryly.

“Oh, gosh,” Kris groaned and ducked his head as he was reminded of his slightly drunken revelation on Grammy night. “I’m sorry, man, I should’ve warned you. Or not said it at all.”

“Why did you? Say it, I mean.”

Kris swallowed hard. It would be difficult to say, but Adam deserved the truth, if nothing else. “Seeing you again, I was still a little bit off balance. And, you know, it was kind of a big night for me . . . .”

Adam huffed a soft laugh as he was supposed to.

“. . . and the champagne was flowing freely. And I was just tired of keeping it all inside,” Kris finished.

“You broke my heart,” Adam said.

“I know,” Kris said, barely able to get the words out past a throat gone closed.

Zorro jumped up onto Kris’ legs for Kris to pull him into his lap. He licked Kris’ face as if he could sense his pain.

“When did you realize you’d been wrong?” Adam asked, voice low, as if he was afraid to hear the answer.

“It always felt wrong,” Kris said.

“Then why didn’t you . . . ?” Adam broke off, as if he was having as much trouble speaking as Kris was.

Kris knew what Adam meant – why didn’t you come back to me? “Because I was stubborn,” Kris said. “Even though it felt wrong, I had to make my marriage work or admit I’d made a mistake . . . leaving you.”

“But you knew it was wrong.”

“I wasn’t being all that rational at the time,” Kris said. “I thought I was, but I wasn’t. I had to stay because I didn’t think I could go back. Not after hurting you like that. I’d made my choice and I was stuck with it. So it couldn’t be wrong. Even though it was. It didn’t have to make sense. _I_ wasn’t making much sense.”

When Kris stopped talking Adam was staring at him. Kris waited out the silence until Adam broke it.

“I was so . . . mad at you,” Adam said.

Kris nodded.

“And I missed you every day.”

Kris bit back tears. “I missed you, too.”

“And then I hated you.”

Kris didn’t like hearing that, but he understood. He’d hated himself.

“Why didn’t it work out?” Adam asked. “Your marriage.”

“Because no matter how much we tried to make it work, I wasn’t in love with Katy, and she was reminded of that every day. The more I didn’t speak your name, the more she heard it in everything I did. She told me once that she saw your ghost everywhere.”

“Katy was the one who asked for the divorce,” Adam said, as if he already knew the answer.

“Yes,” Kris said. “I was in for the long haul. I’d made my bed, and all that. Failure wasn’t an option, not if I wanted to live with the choice I’d made.”

Adam stared at Kris as if he’d never seen him before. “You’re kind of an idiot.”

Kris huffed a laugh in surprise at that. “You’re not the first person to tell me that.”

The air between them felt easier after that, as if the tension had broken. Kris offered Adam the use of the shower.

“You saying I smell?”

“I didn’t want to say anything. . . ,” Kris said. “No, I just know that you feel awful after a flight.”

Neither of them addressed the reason Kris knew this.

“Actually, I would kill for a shower,” Adam admitted.

Kris put Zorro on the floor and stood. “I’ll show you the bathroom and then go get your bag. You did bring something else to wear, didn’t you?” Kris said, eyeing the cowboy hat Adam had set on the coffee table.

“Yes, Kris, I did. I left them in the car. I wasn’t sure of my welcome.”

“Adam.” Kris held out his hands and after a moment’s hesitation Adam took both of them in his own. “You’re always welcome.”

While Adam was showering, Kris started lunch. He had whole grain bread, so he made turkey sandwiches. They were ready when Adam emerged, hair still wet, face scrubbed clean. Kris had always thought that Adam was beautiful no matter how he made himself up, but he had a fondness for this Adam. When his face was free of make-up, his freckles bare for Kris to see, it seemed as if his soul was also laid bare and Kris could see to the core of him.

Kris shook his head to rid it of the fanciful notion. After lunch, Kris showed Adam the studio in his basement and had Adam listen to a couple of the songs they’d recorded. He’d have loved for Adam to listen to all of them, but didn’t want to overwhelm him all at once. Kris missed moments like this, sharing music and opinions and advice.

He remembered how they’d curled up in one of their bunks, listening to one or the other’s iPod with the earphone splitters Kris had gotten for his birthday that year.

“What’s wrong?” Adam said, seeing something on Kris’ face he hadn’t meant to show.

Kris shook his head. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Adam looked at Kris for a long moment, his expression hard for Kris to read. “Me, too.”

Back upstairs Kris offered to put in a movie. It was the safest thing he could think of. Adam held up one finger and then disappeared down the hall to the guestroom. He came back with a CD case in his hand. He waved it at Kris.

“Put this in.”

“What is it?” Kris asked suspiciously, but he took what turned out to be a DVD and put it in the player.

Adam laughed at Kris’ expression when he realized what it was.

“You didn’t,” Kris said, though the evidence spoke for itself.

“I did,” Adam said gleefully as he snagged the remote out of Kris’ hand and fast forwarded the DVD.

Kris resigned himself to watching his reaction to the announcement of his win for Song of the Year and his clumsy acceptance speech several times. He couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed, though, in the face of Adam’s happiness for Kris’ win.

Adam finally allowed Kris to replace the Grammy DVD with a movie. Kris ended up watching the movie alone after Adam fell asleep on the couch with Zorro sprawled out on his chest. Though, to be honest, Kris watched Adam more than the movie. He was still a little bit in shock that Adam was even there.

After a couple hours Kris thought he should wake Adam so he could get to sleep that night at a reasonable hour. Plus, Zorro probably had to pee. Kris sat on the edge of the coffee table to watch them just a little longer. He got the idea to take a photo of them so he’d never have to lose the moment. Zorro must’ve heard him, because he stretched, and then Adam did the same.

Kris’ chest ached with the love he had for Adam, and for just a second it was as if they were both back there.

“We should’ve talked before this,” Kris said softly, as he watched Adam’s eyelids slowly blink open. “Maybe then we could’ve been friends.”

“I don’t think we could’ve been friends then,” Adam said sleepily. “I wanted so much more from you than that.”

Kris wondered if Adam would’ve said that if he’d been more awake. He wasn’t sorry, though, that he’d maybe caught Adam with his guard down.

“And now?” Kris held his breath, only letting it out when Adam finally said, “It’s a start.”

~*~

Adam could only stay for a couple days before he had to fly to NYC. As much as Kris didn’t want him to leave, it was almost a relief to have him go. Kris’ feelings for Adam, about Adam, ran the gamut from guilt to love, and he sometimes found it difficult to breathe around him.

After Kris admitted that he’d taken the photo of Adam and Zorro sleeping, Adam insisted on seeing it. He sent it to himself and, before Kris realized what he was doing, tweeted it. Adam showed Kris the tweet: _Made a new friend._ There was no mention of Kris or Zorro.

Adam’s grin was kind of evil. “Let’s see how long it takes.”

It didn’t take long. Before Adam had even finished speaking, his phone beeped in Kris’ hand.

 _OMG is that @zorropup?!!_ was the first response. From then on the @replies didn’t stop. But it had opened the door for Kris and Adam to exchange the occasional public tweet.

“I don’t have your number,” Kris said as he handed Adam’s phone back to him.

Adam entered Kris into his contacts and then sent a text to Kris so he could do the same.

After Adam left, he sent Kris the odd text here and there, pictures of places he’d seen, comments about what he was doing. Kris’ heart skipped a beat each time he saw Adam’s name on his screen.

Kris couldn’t suppress the little thrill every time someone commented on the fact that he and Adam were communicating publicly again. Yet at the same time, he couldn’t help but wish for more. When he did that, Kris reminded himself that he was lucky that Adam was talking to him at all.

Adam had pulled some strings to get tickets to the Idol performance show the week Kris was going to be there, and even talked the producers into seating them together to stage an ‘impromptu’ Kradam reunion. The producers saw the benefit of that in dollar signs. John was Kris’ plus one, and Leila had insisted on going with Adam when she found out that Kris was going to be there. The hug she gave him when they ‘ran into’ each other made Kris blink back tears.

Kris and Adam did lunch the next day. They got takeout and went back to Adam’s place, and pictures of them exiting the restaurant together popped up before they’d even unboxed the food.

Kris was surprised to see Adam there the next night, as well. “You didn’t tell me you’d be here tonight!”

Adam smiled at Kris’ surprise. “I know some people.” He looked Kris over and opened his arms. “Come here.”

Kris did not turn down his first Adam hug in way too many years. When Kris was finally able to let go, he re-introduced Adam to Cale, and then introduced him to Eliot and Paula.

“I’m a huge fan,” Paula said when she shook Adam’s hand.

“Aww, thank you,” Adam said, and then the three of them started talking.

“What?” Kris said when he noticed Cale staring at him.

“I wondered why you were happier lately.”

“I haven’t been happy,” Kris reflexively denied, and then he laughed at the ridiculousness of the statement. He sighed as he watched Adam talk with Eliot and Paula. “I missed him.”

“I know,” Cale said, but he walked away before Kris could attempt to parse that comment.

Kris had thought about performing his current single, but decided to sing _Coloring Outside The Lines_ instead. And he killed it on the Idol stage, if he did say so himself. Ryan said it, and Adam said it, so Kris was pretty sure it was true.

They went out after the show, Kris, Adam, and Kris’ band. When the night ended, Adam hugged everyone of them goodbye, even Cale. Kris held Adam tight for just a moment too long when it was his turn, and if he wished for more, he fooled himself into thinking he was the only one who knew it.

Kris spent the next several weeks in the studio. Cook had stepped up promo for his new album, so Kris worked with a woman named Jill Hanson, though they sent everything to Cook for him to sign off on. Kris also sent every song to Adam for his feedback, and Adam was the first person Kris told when he’d come up with a final track list for the new album.

Adam didn’t mention it, but he had to notice how every song Kris chose was about him, about them. The theme of second chances and having the opportunity to fix past mistakes ran through the entire album. Kris decided to call the album _Old Habits_ , and the first single, which they hoped would be released in early May, was the song on which the album title was based. One line of the chorus went, _you’re an old habit I don’t wanna break._

Kris was going a little bit crazy getting everything ready for the single and album releases, including another photoshoot. On top of that, the people from Idol called again. It was their fifteenth season and they wanted to include a reunion special in early May.

Kris tweeted out the album cover once it was decided on. It was sexier than he was normally comfortable with. Kris had been positioned with his back against weathered boards meant to resemble an old barn. His arms were crossed above his head, raising the tight t-shirt to reveal a strip of skin and an undone button at the waistband of his jeans. His feet were bare.

Adam texted Kris almost immediately. _Did you intend for that to be wank material?_

Feeling brave, Kris sent back, _Yes._

It took a while for Adam to reply. Long seconds that Kris sweated out. _I wish I was there._

_Me too._

Kris’ phone rang. Before he even said hello, Adam said, “We haven’t talked about this.”

“No,” Kris agreed. But not for lack of want.

“Do you . . . ?”

“Yes,” Kris said before Adam could finish.

“I’ve got some interviews in Nashville in a couple of weeks.”

“I know,” Kris said breathlessly, not caring if Adam knew that Kris kept up with Adam’s schedule even more obsessively than he did his own.

“Be there?”

“Yes.”

“I have to go jerk off right now,” Adam said, and the line went dead.

Kris groaned as he palmed himself and then got himself off on the idea of Adam jerking off to the photo of him.

~*~*~*~

Kris called Lindsay to tell her that something had come up and to clear his schedule for the day Adam would be in Nashville.

“You have a meeting with the label,” Lindsay told him after she found the date in Kris’ calendar.

“Reschedule it,” Kris said.

“It’s about the album release.”

“I know what it’s about.”

“Okay.”

“Sorry,” Kris said. “It’s just, this is important.”

“Anything to do with Adam Lambert being in Nashville that day?”

That brought Kris up short. “How did you know that?”

“I make it a point to know things.”

“Okay, well, yes. I’m meeting Adam. I haven’t seen him in a while and . . . . Look, we’re just getting together. To talk.”

“Uh huh, talking, right. Are you going to try and sell me a bridge next?”

“Is this going to be a problem?” Kris asked. He hadn’t thought that it would be, but sometimes these things weren’t a problem until they came up.

“Only if I have to explain naked photos on the internet,” Lindsay said.

“Naked . . . who . . . no!”

“Good, then there won’t be a problem. I’ll update your calendar with the new meeting time. Don’t forget to check it.” Lindsay hung up on him.

A couple weeks later, after counting down the days and minutes, Kris met Adam at the Nashville International Airport. When Adam saw Kris, his face lit up and as soon as they were within reach of each other he swooped Kris up into a big hug. Kris was laughing when Adam released him.

“You do realize that a dozen photos of that just hit the internet.”

“Do you mind?” Adam asked.

Kris shook his head. “No. And as long as they aren’t naked, neither with my management company.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Adam left his entourage to take the car that met them to the radio station and rode with Kris. “You’re sure you know how to get there?”

“Yes.”

Adam examined Kris’ car, checking out the console and the glove box. “Did you get this car because you thought it looked sporty?”

Kris shot Adam a look. “I got it because it has room for my guitars.”

“Ah, practical.”

“It’s not like it’s a mini-van.”

Adam gave him a ‘you really believe that’ look.

“I could always see if _you_ fit in the back,” Kris mock-threatened.

“Maybe after the interview,” Adam said. “I don’t want to mess up my hair.”

And just like that all Kris’ efforts to keep things light and not think about the big pink sexy elephant in the car went out the window.

“You okay?” Adam asked, noticing the change in Kris.

“No,” Kris said. “I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say I’ve been thinking about this ever since we talked that day.”

“And?”

“And,” Kris said. “It’s a real struggle to not just jump you, so I’m trying to, you know, pretend I don’t have sex on the brain.”

“Oh.” Adam smiled.

“What?”

Adam shrugged. “I thought you might be having second thoughts.”

“No,” Kris said. “Absolutely not.”

“Good,” Adam said.

The way Adam spoke the word sent shivers down Kris’ spine. It had been torture, thinking about Adam everyday, talking to him, knowing that this lay mere days away.

“You know what I wanna do?” Kris said when he’d parked inside the radio station’s lot.

“I have an idea,” Adam drawled.

Kris giggled nervously. “No. Well, yes, but what I want right this second is to kiss you.”

“We don’t have to wait for that.”

Adam undid his seatbelt and leaned across the console, slipping his hand behind Kris’ head and drawing him close. Their lips met, and for a moment it was as if no time at all had passed since the last time they did this. Kris opened to Adam as he licked his way into Kris’ mouth. They kissed until someone knocked on the window.

“Let’s go, Romeo, you’re gonna be late.”

Kris was torn being embarrassed at being caught, and being too turned on to care. They got out of the car and Adam held Kris’ hand as they all walked into the station together. Kris stood with the others while they got Adam situated on a stool and gave him a pair of headphones. His lips still tingled from their kiss.

Adam did two interviews that morning, and had a third scheduled for the afternoon. When the others went to lunch, Kris took Adam to the hotel room he’d booked because it was closer than his house.

Kris thought there might be a moment of awkwardness, but if there was it got lost in the kiss as Adam pressed Kris up against the closed door and slid his hands down Kris’ sides to his hips, then around to his ass so he could pull him in close.

Kris groaned when their bodies made delicious contact. “First time’s gonna be fast,” he warned.

“That’s good,” Adam purred as he lifted Kris. “Gonna get you off, and then we’ll both last a good long time while you ride my cock.”

~*~

Kris was sprawled out on the bed, covered in sweat and come, and sore in the best possible way. Adam’s head rested on Kris’ chest, and Kris ran his fingers through Adam’s hair.

“Good thing you’re doing radio promo. You’re gonna look like you just had sex.”

Adam snorted. “I did just have sex.” He rested his chin in Kris’ chest and looked at him. “Speaking of looking like he just had sex.”

Kris blushed.

Adam grinned. “I can’t believe you still blush.”

Adam’s phone alarm went off and he frowned. It was the second time, which meant they really had to get cleaned up and dressed or Adam would be late for his next interview and Kris would get into trouble for delaying him.

“I don’t wanna leave,” Adam said.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Kris told him.

Kris sighed when Adam pressed an apologetic kiss to his chin and then rolled off the bed. He watched Adam pad naked into the bathroom, enjoying the view. Kris sat up and drew his knees up. He wrapped an arm around his legs and propped his chin on his knee.

“Adam, did we just . . . ?”

Adam peeked out of the bathroom. “Have sex? Yes. And it was amazing.”

“No, I mean, did we just . . . are we . . . ?”

Kris didn’t know why he was having such a difficult time asking the question. Adam had come out of the bathroom and stood staring at him.

“Do you want to?” Adam asked, looking like he might throw up if Kris didn’t answer correctly.

“Yes,” Kris said. He shook his head. “I mean, I don’t know what you’re comfortable with, so . . . .”

“I want it all with you,” Adam said. “I always have.”

Kris swallowed hard. “Me, too. I mean, with you.”

Kris didn’t have time to dig himself a deeper hole, because Adam tackled him to the mattress.

“You mean it?”

“I want that more than anything in the world,” Kris said.

“Anything?” Adam asked with a small smirk.

“Can’t I have both?” Kris teased, arching and moaning when Adam pushed two fingers inside him.

“Yes,” Adam said. “You can have both.”

~*~

The rest of the afternoon was bittersweet, Kris enjoying every moment he spent with Adam, yet knowing that he’d be dropping Adam back off at the airport soon.

“How do you want to handle this?” Adam asked when they were parked in the airport’s short term lot.

“Handle what?” Kris asked.

Adam made a hand gesture to indicate ‘everything.’

“Ah,” Kris said. “The paps and everything else?” He hated how uncertain Adam appeared, and the part he’d played in that. “Well, my mama always said, start as you wanna go on.”

Kris got out of the car and met Adam at the back. He held out his hand. Adam looked at it before reaching out to take it.

“What should we say when they ask questions about this?” Adam raised their joined hands.

Kris shrugged. “That it’s new and we’re still working out the details?” he suggested.

“That’s good,” Adam said. “And it has the benefit of being the truth.”

“Always best to stick with the truth,” Kris said, squeezing Adam’s hand.

Adam and Kris walked into the airport undisturbed, almost as if they were unrecognizable as a couple. Adam’s people were waiting and managed to surround them before the paparazzi got wind of who they were.

“Adam! Kris!” various voices called out to them.

Adam turned to wave and smile at them before they were moved along towards the gate. They stood outside the walkway that led to the metal detectors for a couple minutes to allow Kris and Adam to say goodbye. Kris wouldn’t be able to go past this point. Adam wrapped Kris up in his arms, and Kris buried his face in Adam’s neck. He never wanted to let go.

“Listen,” Kris said when he pulled back. “I’m going to send you something. An audio file. The song I’m thinking of singing at the Idol thing.”

“Okay,” Adam said.

“Listen to it. Tell me what you think.”

“Of course,” Adam said as he was pulled away from Kris.

“Stay safe,” Kris said.

“I’ll do my best.”

“Oh, and Adam?”

Adam tried to stem the tide pulling him along in its wake.

“I love you.”

Adam was dragged away before he could say it back. Moments later Kris’ phone buzzed with a text from Adam.

_You suck._

_I love you too._

Kris headed back the way he’d come with a smile on his face that even the paparazzi waiting for him couldn’t dim.

“Kris! Kris Allen! Kris, you and Adam Lambert looked pretty chummy!”

“Yes,” Kris said, his smile widening as he headed for his car.

~*~

“What did you think?” Kris asked when Adam called him the moment he got off the plane.

Kris’ hands had been shaking when he sent the audio file to Adam from his car before pulling out of the parking lot.

“It was beautiful,” Adam said. “Haunting, and painful, and gorgeous.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Adam said. “But I don’t think you should sing it for the Idol special.”

Kris’ heart sank. “You don’t?”

“No. I think _we_ should sing it.”

“I . . . really?”

“Yes. I know you didn’t write it as a duet, but I don’t think it would take much to turn it into one.”

The song had been Kris’ catharsis, never intended to see the light of day, but after Adam’s visit back in February he’d been drawn back to it. He’d played with the melody, changed some words, and recorded it in his basement, just him and his guitar.

“Are you sure?” Kris asked.

“It’s going to raise a lot of questions,” Adam said in lieu of an answer.

“I think we’ve already done that,” Kris said dryly.

“Are you sure you want to bring up the past like that?”

Kris could tell that Adam was holding his breath as he waited for Kris’ answer.

“I don’t want to deny anything about you, about us. People already know I was in love with someone back then who wasn’t my wife. I don’t think it’ll surprise many to find out it was you.”

“And the ones it does surprise?”

“Fuck ‘em,” Kris said, startling a laugh out of Adam.

~*~

The next few weeks were busy. The single came out just before Kris had to be in LA for the Idol special. He did some promotion in Nashville and then NYC before flying out to LA a few days early. He and Adam had been working on the song over Skype, but they had yet to work on it together in person. Plus, even though it had only been a couple of weeks, Kris was already missing Adam.

Adam picked Kris up at the airport and whisked him away to his home after a visit to the In & Out drive-thru. They talked about the song they had to work on, and the fact that Kris’ parents were coming out for the special. Leila had offered to put them up, which Kris thought was amazingly nice. They ate the burgers at the island in Adam’s kitchen, and then Adam took Kris to bed and showed him that he’d been missed as well.

“We need to do something about this being apart so much,” Kris said when he lay sated and wrapped up in Adam’s arms.

“Mmm,” Adam hummed agreeably. “What do you suggest?”

“Being in the same city for some of the time would be nice,” Kris mumbled before he fell asleep.

Kris was so exhausted from all the work he’d been doing to get the single released, and the promotion for it, that he slept through to morning. After breakfast they worked on the song. They were interrupted by Leila stopping by with lunch. Before she left, Kris gave her his parents’ flight information and their cell phone numbers. Adam and Kris both walked her to the door, and Leila gave each of them hugs goodbye.

“Should we work on the song some more?” Kris asked.

Adam gave him a look.

“Or not,” Kris said, and let Adam take him upstairs.

Later, Kris blamed the fact that he’d just lost a bunch of brain cells for the turn the conversation took. “You know, if I had it to do all over again, I’d do it differently.”

Despite the fact that he probably was making very little sense, Adam knew what he was talking about.

“No, you wouldn’t,” Adam said.

Kris took a breath to argue, but Adam went on.

“Maybe if you knew then what you know now, but all things being the same, you’d make the same decision. Because you’re honorable.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good thing.”

Adam shrugged. “Sometimes you make the right decision for all the wrong reasons, and other times you make the wrong decision for all the right reasons.”

Kris pouted. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Makes perfect sense,” Adam said.

“Which are we doing now?”

“Making the right decision for all the right reasons, I hope.”

“I think we are,” Kris said.

~*~

Cook flew in for the show. It was the first time Kris had seen him in months. The three of them met for lunch at a quiet restaurant Adam knew where they could have some privacy and still enjoy a nice time out. When Kris saw Cook he gave him a big hug in welcome. As soon as Cook sat and ordered a drink, Kris asked him about his promotional tour, and then they talked about the upcoming Idol special. Cook didn’t mention it, but Kris had seen the guest list, and he knew that David Archuleta was going to be there as well.

When they got back to Adam’s house, Adam said, “So, you and Cook?”

Kris was so surprised by the question that he couldn’t answer right away. “Well, yes and no,” he finally said. “Nothing serious. Both our hearts lie elsewhere, in case you weren’t clear on that. Just usually when I was feeling blue about something. I was his pity fuck,” Kris said lightly.

Adam didn’t say anything more about it, but when they went bed that night he took Kris apart and turned him inside out before putting him back together again.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?” Kris gasped when he could finally speak again.

“Nobody puts baby in a corner,” Adam said, and Kris laughed until his sides ached with it while Adam giggled into his neck.

“Also,” Adam said when he’d sobered up a bit, “I want to make sure you don’t ever need anyone else.”

Kris rolled over so he could face Adam. He pressed a kiss to a freckle on Adam’s nose. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

~*~

Allison attended the rehearsal. She gave them both hugs and then punched Kris in the arm.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“I had to find out from the internet, the _internet_ , that you two were back together. You couldn’t have called?”

“Sorry? I’ve been a little busy, what with a new single coming out, getting ready for this thing, and, oh yeah, a new boyfriend.”

“I hate you,” Allison muttered.

“No you don’t.”

“No, I don’t.”

Kris had spotted Archie when they first got there, but Cook was nowhere to be seen. They mingled until the producers sat them down in the seats and went through the entire show, who was going on when and where they’d be before and after their performances and when they could talk to reporters . . . . Kris and Adam stayed in the auditorium seats until it was their turn to go on so they could watch the others. It was going to be one hell of a show, Kris thought, with all the talent they had there.

When it was their turn, they went through the song twice. Kris started out on a stool with his guitar, then the band came in when Adam joined him on stage and Kris gave up the guitar to stand and sing with Adam. _To_ Adam. For those minutes they were on stage, Kris forget everything else.

Allison’s eyes were red when they found her afterwards. “That was so beautiful!” she said, punching Kris again.

They had dinner at Leila’s that night. She’d picked up Kris’ parents at the airport since he and Adam had both been at the rehearsal. Kris was happy to see that his parents were just as glad to see Adam as Leila had been to see Kris. They hadn’t been the least bit surprised when Kris had told them that he and Adam were together (the one call he did think to make before they heard about it from someone else).

Kris thought he would find it difficult to sleep that night, but sleep came to him easily when he was wrapped up in Adam’s arms. It didn’t hurt that Adam made sure he was exhausted before he attempted to sleep.

The next day was hectic, mostly because it took Adam a while to get ready. Kris took advantage of the fact that it would take him no time at all, and lay on the bed and watched as Adam put together an outfit and then laid out his make-up and hair products before pulling Kris into the shower to relieve some tension.

While Adam was doing his hair and make-up, Kris played with his product. He took a picture of his lonely bottle of gel, and then moved it over to join all of Adam’s product and took another photo. He tweeted them as _before_ and _after_. Adam just shook his head.

“At least I’m not posting naked photos of you,” Kris said. “Lindsay will be so pleased.”

“Do I even want to know what you’re talking about?” Adam asked as he did his eyeliner.

“Probably not.”

The limo picked up Leila and Kris’ parents first because everyone knew how long it took Adam to perfect his look. The ride to the theater was rowdy, and Kris wondered how much of the champagne their parents had partaken. Still, he didn’t miss his mama’s eyes misting up when she saw him and Adam holding hands.

The five of them walked the red carpet together, though they were often separated by different people wanting photos and interviews. At one point Kris heard his mother say, “It’s just like old times,” when someone snapped a photo of his parents with Leila.

Everyone wanted to know about Kris and Adam being together now, and a few asked some pretty invasive questions about when they’d gotten together and whether Adam was the person Kris had been talking about when he’d said he’d fallen in love with someone not his wife.

They hadn’t really decided on a way to tell that story and get it out all at once instead of one sound bite at a time, so instead of answering those questions, Adam just said, “We’re looking forward to our future together.”

Inside the theater they were seated with their parents until it was time for them to head backstage and get ready for their performance. Adam did some vocal exercises and Kris made sure his guitar was properly tuned. Before they knew it, they were up. Adam gave Kris a kiss for luck, and then they took their spot and waited in the wings for the act before them – “We’re following Kelly Clarkson!” Adam had hissed at rehearsal the day before – to finish up and their names to be announced.

“Adam Lambert and Kris Allen,” someone said, sticking a microphone in their faces. “How does it feel to be performing together on the Idol stage once more?”

Kris was glad they hadn’t had backstage interviews during their season, and was happy to let Adam field the question.

“It feels great,” Adam said, giving Kris a one-armed hug and smiling down at him.

Kelly’s performance ended and the interviewer forgot about them to go talk to her. Kris relaxed against Adam.

“I hate having to be ‘on’ all the time.”

Adam rubbed Kris’ arm.

“Thirty seconds,” someone said, and they both straightened up.

Kris laughed at their ingrained reaction, and then Ryan Seacrest was introducing them.

“And now, season eight’s winner, Kris Allen, returns to the Idol stage to celebrate fifteen seasons of Idol with a very special song, and a very special guest. Kris Allen and Adam Lambert, everyone.”

Kris walked onto the stage to applause and took a seat on the stool that had been placed front and center for him. He started playing, and the audience fell silent. He started singing, and he could feel that he had their rapt attention. When his voice died off, and Adam stepped onto the stage, his voice filling the space that Kris had left, the applause was nearly deafening. Kris was able to drown it out only because he had Adam’s eyes to fall into.

Kris stopped playing and the band took over. He took the microphone out of the stand and left the stool, swinging his guitar around his back and moving towards Adam. Nothing else existed for them in that moment as they sang the words of the song to each other, not caring what anyone else heard, what anyone else saw.

When the song ended, Kris was spent, and he could see the same emotions in Adam’s eyes. Uncaring of what anyone else would think, Kris reached for Adam as the last notes died away, and Adam was right there. They hugged, and the memories of past hugs in similar situations swirled through Kris’ mind. When they pulled apart this time, though, Kris didn’t let go of Adam. He tipped his head back, and Adam lowered his, and their lips met.

The lights went up and they stood side by side, arms around each other as Ryan came back onto the stage.

“Kris Allen and Adam Lambert, everyone! That was amazing! How are you guys? Long time, no see.”

“We’re doing great,” Adam said. “Happy to be back to celebrate Idol’s fifteenth season.”

Kris nodded his agreement.

“So, I hear congratulations are in order,” Ryan said.

“Thank you,” Kris said, glancing up at Adam and smiling.

“Who would’ve guessed seven years ago that you two would end up together?” Ryan said.

“Back together,” Adam said. “It feels like we’ve come full circle.”

“What’s different this time?”

“I’m not letting him go this time,” Kris said.

The End


End file.
